Diplomatic Mission
by Fabius Maximus
Summary: Not all Zentraedi are hostile...and not all humans are trustworthy.  Edit: Bumpted this up to PG for some mild language and violence.
1. Default Chapter

                Sharin looked out over the compound.  Micronians swarmed about, working, and doing generally micronian things, with the zentraedi towering over them, either working themselves, or in the time honored tradition of soldiers everywhere, trying to _look_ like they were working and thus avoid the attention of  senior officers who could find them things to do.

                She was perched on the top of the long low hill that marked the location of her flagship, fully operational, although shielded from weapons or (more importantly) the prying eyes of RDF space forces. Blow away covers over missile and beam emplacements were also camouflaged, as were the egress points for the mecha hangers-- although most mecha had it's own hangers, constructed over the last year. The other ships she'd kept alive were similarly buried, except for the two Tou Redir scouts at the airdrome, fully functional, with two others being used as spares banks.  Less than two micronian years, she thought, with some pride. 

                "I sent the message."  The voice came behind her, and the short commander looked over at Comofficer Sara.  

                "Thank you."  Sharin said.  

                "Tzarna wants to talk to you about this."  Sara said, "So does Zara, and Korva." 

                "Which ones are most upset?"

                "You need to ask?  Tzarna.  She thinks this is insanity."

                "Maybe, but it has to be done."  Sharin said.  "And it has to be done right—prepare the micronization chamber."

                "The-commander…you wouldn't…"

                "It will be hard to negotiate if I cannot fit in the room now, won't it?"  She said.  "As I said, It has to be done."

***

                Boris Vakowsky was on the phone when the call came.  

                "Sorry father-- duty calls!"  He said and hung up.  

                "Another grandchild guilt trip?"  Carl Tomkins asked. Boris' wingman, Carl was thinner than Boris, with untidy blonde hair instead of Boris's crew cut black hair.  Boris nodded, sadly. 

                "Yes… you would think with the other children they have enough…but no." He sighed.  "Always they must call me."  He finished in his faux Russian accent.  Carl laughed and punched him in the shoulder.  Like many of the RDF, Boris and his family had originally been a Russian military family, and Boris felt the need to uphold the national reputation. A second announcement, more impatient than the first, got them moving. 

                When Boris entered the briefing room, he snapped to attention.  His CO was there…but nobody said anything about Admiral Gloval! Carl did the same, as they waited for the Admiral to speak.  Gloval waved at some chairs.

                "Please, be seated gentlemen." The two pilots sat down, looking over at their CO, who seemed equally in the dark.

                "The following data."  Gloval said, "Has only recently come to light. As you know, in the year and a half  since the SDF-1 has touched down, we have made great strides in re-contacting surviving human enclaves, across the globe."  They nodded, that was common knowledge.  "We have also determined that many zentraedi are even worse off than we are."  Gloval paused and lit his pipe, puffing on it.

                "The zentraedi formerly under Dolza have splintered, squadrons, ships, and even individual units going their own way."   Gloval looked down at the two pilots. "And of course that is to our great good fortune-- the numbers of zentraedi, even crashed, could make things hard on us and Breetai's allied forces.  As it is, many of the ships that survived have taken the amnesty offered by Breetai, and those on the earth have been handicapped by their infighting." Boris and Carl nodded.  While there had been continual raids, there was almost no coordination-- the zentraedi were acting more like a mob than the finely honed  military they'd faced before the end of the command fortress.

                "Which brings us to this group."  The captain said and touched a button.  The room darkened, and the wall screen came up.  "We discovered this by the ruins of Macao." He said. Like all industrialized areas, the coastal regions of China had received great attention from Dolza's forces.  The long range picture showed craters, a half demolished city… and a smaller region by it that seemed more orderly.  The captain punched another button, and the view zoomed in.  "This was only recently possible-- the air is finely losing some of that dust."  he muttered.  Now it was much closer, and Boris and Carl shot upright at what it revealed.  Several Tou Radir scouts were grounded, not crashed as they normally appeared. In addition, huge mounds were in center  view, easily large enough to hide capital zentraedi ships.  A organized settlement was around them with roads and buildings, both micronian and zentraedi in size.  Carl gave a whistle.

                "I haven't seen anything like _that_." He said.

                "Correct." Gloval said, "Our intelligence indicates that the main body of the zentraedi came from the 324th Elite Strike detachment.  Breetai has informed us that such units were equipped for the deep penetration and strike role, with skilled soldiers, cutting edge mecha and ships, and the best commanders….they were intended to go behind the lines, and operate without support, as "head hunter" units." Gloval shrugged, "But that is not the only zentraedi unit to be here-- we have also found indications that large numbers of formerly unaffiliated zentraedi have found their way here, including at least one ground combat formation: possibly a planetary assault and combat engineering unit."  Gloval continued, "They have also apparently engaged in large scale salvage operations… in sum, there may be nearly 100,000 zentraedi soldiers, along with mecha and weapons."  Carl and Boris looked at each other. That wasn't a job for their squadron, that was a job for a good chunk of the entire RDF.

                "But the situation is…complicated."  The admiral continued.  "These zentraedi have also engaged in gathering large numbers of humans under their control, although to be honest, given that we were unable to provide much relief to these areas, it appears that in many cases, the "gathering" was simply offering food and water.  Our information indicates that they are well treated, in return for serving and supporting the zentraedi."

                "Pardon me sir…but what does that have to do with us?" Boris asked, "Our entire squadron wouldn't be enough for that, and I'm assuming  that nukes are out."

                "Oh definitely, Lieutenant."  Gloval said, without a hint of annoyance. "Because in the last two days we have received communications from these zentraedi…they wish to discuss a formal ending of hostilities, based on their acceptance as an independent, but neutral settlement."  Carl and Boris both blinked at that.  Carl looked like he wanted to say something. Gloval noticed that and nodded his head.

                "I thought it was our policy to integrate the zentraedi."  Carl said. 

                "Yes…but this is a special group. They have both the firepower and organization to cause a great deal of trouble…to put it bluntly, we do not have the forces to compel them." Gloval looked at the read outs, "But equally, they are a very _rare_ group-- almost no other zentraedi force has a combination of military power and organization, and almost none have humans intermixed with them… which makes this group sufficiently unusual that the precedent set should not be a large one.  More importantly, unlike the majority of independent zentraedi, they seem at least willing to discuss co-existence…and for that reason, I have selected you to go to the enclave, and escort their representative back to the SDF-1 for discussions on a permanent treaty."

***

                "I cannot believe this!"  Tzarna, overall airborne mecha commander, third in command, and generally aggressive zentraedi said as she stalked across the conference room.  Her commander, Fleet Commander Sharin, watched her with disguised affection.  Tzarna had been with her from the very beginning, and in those years, Sharin had come to understand one thing-- Tzarna liked people around her to know when she disagreed with something…

                "You would go there, _alone?_" She said. "Are you insane?"

                "Quite sane." Sharin said, and looked over at the other officers.  "We need this agreement."              

                "Why?"  Tzarna said.  "We have the most powerful organized force of zentraedi on the continent!"

                "That we know of." Korva, the male zentraedi who had linked up with them, pledging his ground combat formation to Sharin, said.  Tzarna glared at him.  Korva continued in his deep voice, "But there is still Breetai's fleet, and the RDF."

                "We can defeat them!"

                "Correct." Korva said.  The zentraedi rose to his feet, dwarfing everyone else in the room..  Sharin was short for a zentraedi, but Korva…Korva was very nearly Breetai sized. "I agree." He said, surprising the others. 

                "We can win…one battle." He said, "We have sufficient stocks of mecha, missiles and troops to fight for days-- weeks, of full scale combat."  He stomped his foot on the deck. "Your strike battleship, the carrier, and the other ships we have can fly-- they can even fight because you dropped them beneath the atmosphere before Dolza's ship exploded."  He paused.  "We can do this… once."  Korva walked to the window that opened onto the bridge.

                "Then…what?  The micronians can build more mecha, we cannot.  We cannot get reinforcements-- Dolza took every ship that could fold in the first place!  We cannot replace lost crew members…"  He turned back to Tzarna. "Yes, we can win…one battle.  But we cannot win a war, and that is what your one battle will produce." Sharin said nothing. Other commanders liked to rant and rave, and push their subordinates around. She preferred to lead by consensus-- she'd chosen them for their skill, so it was foolish not to permit them to use it.  Tzarna had taken the fall of the fleet harder than most of them, though.  Korva was a ground pounder-- and used to the great proclamations of space and air support turning out to be exaggerated…although even he'd never seen a disaster of this magnitude.  Korva had contacted them during the huge melee that had culminated with the destruction of the command base, and his men were now integrated among their own-- an act which had convinced Tzarna that they would soon be singing Minmei songs.

                That hadn't happened, but Sharin knew Korva better now, and he'd confided the temptation to break out into such a song, just to see what color Tzarna would turn.  Sharin had ordered him not to-- Tzarna was a friend and companion, and she was having a hard enough time as it was.

                Tulka weapon officer spoke up.  She hadn't had much to do, since no targets worthy of the ships main weapons had appeared, so she'd been occupied working with Korva, and some micronians with engineering talent, building emplacements-- that had already been tested against some bandit zentraedi, to perfection.  Her short red hair, blue eyes  and wide mouth combined to form an absolutely gleeful package when she was lining up some poor Invid hive as a firing test for the fleets weapons…but now she was unwontedly serious.

                "And even if we do win, what than? We cannot leave-- we barely have enough protoculture in the ships energizers to keep us active for one engagement…or one fold.  Not both."  She shrugged, "How many options do we have?  Act like those bandits, running around and fighting for no other reason than to be fighting?" Tzarna glared at her, and Sharin took a hand. She stood up and walked over to the bulkhead.  She was shorter than anyone else in the room, with black curly hair.  She'd been their commander, with the exception of Korva, for over fifteen years, and in that time had defeated all enemies that had come before them.  

                "Tzarna…Korva is right." Sharin said, "And we must look to the future.  The micronians will grow more powerful over time. As they recover, they will build factories, farms… look at what the micronians that have come to us have done with the salvage from the city, in only a year!" She said, and everyone nodded.  Sharin's deal had been simple-- work for the zentraedi, and be fed and protected, and have your family protected.  For the ragged bands staggering out of their shelters, that had been heaven… and the fact that Sharin didn't micromanage them was also a plus.  Many of the systems of the ships were working better than they ever had, the remnants of an RDF fabrication center had been broken down and transported to the ship in order to repair and refit their mecha, and the few doctors, under Gary Chang, had worked incredible  feats of healing on zentraedi who would normally be written off.

                "And all that is only a fraction of what the RDF is accomplishing."  Sharin continued. "Yes, right now we could win a battle, but not a war." She paused, "But as the years pass, their power will grow far greater than ours…and the only way to secure our survival is to make them unwilling to destroy us…which requires…politics."  She said, unable to keep some distaste out of her voice at the micronian word.  

                "And what if they want too high a price?" Tzarna said. 

                "Than we will have your battle, Tzarna." Sharin said seriously. "I am going to have myself micronized now. Korva, Tzarna, Zara …you are in charge until I return." She paused, "try not to kill each other…"

                "Why Micronized?"  Korva asked, seriously. "There is no need for that, surely."

                "Yes…"  Sharin said, "I think they will be more open with me if I am their size…"  She smiled, "and it may put them off balance if they expect a giant zentraedi, and get someone who is barely five feet tall."  Korva nodded at that,  but  Tzarna frowned.  

                "I don't trust them." She said. Sharin nodded.

                "Trust is overrated right now…but hopefully we can deal with them."

***

                Boris and Carl were flying with the two veritechs flying escort on the VTOL. The waters of the sea of Japan moved past underneath them. They would be at the enclave in less than thirty minutes. 

                "Ten buck's gets you that this is a plot to blow us up." Carl said.

                "Twenty says you're wrong."  Boris replied. 

                "Why?"

                "Because they've heard about you and the girls, and they're going to kidnap you for a secret zentraedi Harem."  

                "Oh man, and me without my suit…"

                Sharin stood on the landing field, feeling strange.  The micronization had taken hold and had repaired the damage…but everything seemed _wrong._ The wind that hadn't been noticeable as a full sized zentraedi now chilled her, and her point of view was all wrong… and she had been used to being short!  In front of them, the RDF transport squatted on the ground, it's turbines spinning up, and an escort of four Veritech fighters in battloid standing guard.  Sharin fought envy-- those mecha were nearly as good in battloid as a standard power armor, and could also act as fighters-- the destroid factory they'd salvaged had never built such mecha…  Still, they had repaired all their mecha, and some of the modifications that Tulka was  working on might surprise even these veritechs, to say nothing of the mecha she'd carefully kept hidden.  She looked up at Tzarna, standing in her uniform. 

                "You shouldn't go,"  Tzarna said again.   

                "Yes, I have to." Sharin shouted up to her, annoyed that now she had to yell.  "I don't want this hanging over my head-- we have enough problems with the strikers, the marauders, and the purifiers.  WE don't need to add the RDF to them!."    Meanwhile, a conversation was going on in two of the battloids.  

                LT J.G. Boris "Badenov"  Vakowsky had dialed up his visuals on Sharin and was making comments to his wingmate. 

                "Will you look at those, Carl?  I bet she needs help getting up in the morning!"  He laughed, "I'd help her!"

                "Well, the rest of her isn't too bad, either."  His wingmate added, "But that other lady, the big one, she's pretty good too."  Boris looked up at her, and than frowned.  

                "Yah, she's pretty too…but she'd rip off your balls, I bet."  He shrugged, "That one looks like a sweet little thing…." 

                "Don't forget, that that "sweet little thing" is in charge of this whole base-- want to bet there's steel under that face?"  Boris frowned at that, and looked again at the two.  The big one was typical zentraedi -- curves with a face that would be pretty…if she'd ever smile.   Curly brown  hair falling in a torrent down her back, with eyes that looked like they belonged in a model-- it almost made you forget her body armor and gun.  

                The micronized zentraedi was standing at her feet.  Boris could tell that she probably barely came up to his shoulder-- maybe even shorter.  Beyond her obvious assets, she was curved like a  dream…but not like someone would expect a commander of an entire base.  Her black hair was a  mass of curls, shorter than her companion, coming down to just below her shoulders.  Boris was watching her when suddenly, she looked up to him.  The monitor gave a very good look at her face.  Intelligent green eyes,  defined cheekbones, and a mouth that looked equally at home in a smile or a frown-- and didn't look at home taking any guff whatsoever.   He lost sight of her face as the other zentraedi, and a new one, a male that looked like he'd been carved from granite, both knelt down to speak with her.  

                "Yeah…I can see your point."  He said to Carl.  

                "As strange as it sounds, I agree with Tzarna." Korva said. "Go, but with an escort."  Sharin looked at him in some annoyance.

                "Korva, they know that other zentraedi will be watching this-- I don't think I have to worry about a double cross."  She smiled, "And by trusting them, I put them off balance. Trust me."

                "Hmph."  Was all Tzarna said. Sharin frowned.

                "Tzarna-- you have your orders."

                "Yes, Commander."  She sighed in irritation, looking at Korva for support.  He also looked worried. 

                "We both do, and we'll carry them out… but Sharin, you are the core of this unit-- don't do anything stupid."

                "Trust me."  She said, and walked towards the VTOL. The RDF crew let her in, and in a moment, the VTOL lifted off, followed by the veritechs.  In a few moments, they were both gone.

                "I trust her… I don't know about the RDF." Korva said.  Tzarna looked at him and nodded, in more agreement than they'd had since he'd arrived.

                "I know…she's trusting the people that helped destroy the zentraedi."

                ***

                Sharin sat in the seat, working on some paperwork. Just because she was micronized and on her way to a conference didn't mean the material in her IN basket was going to go away, as Gary said.  Running the zentraedi was hard enough-- but working to insure that the micronians remained fed, happy and willing to work for them sometimes bordered on impossible-- as much due to the fact that Sharin didn't always understand what they wanted, as anything else. 

                That brought her to the bustling of the micronian town that had grown up around their base.    The fact that some of her zentraedi, male and female, who had been micronized were now cohabitating…and thank Zor Tzarna didn't know about that.   The sight of Korva, mighty warlord of the zentraedi, micronized with a micronian child on each shoulder as he walked back from the dam project.  Korva had been enthralled with the idea of finally building something that would last-- he'd even commandeered a squad and spent several days going over the "Great Wall."  Sharin didn't see the point, but Korva acted like he'd been brought before the Robotech Masters themselves.  

                And that was the problem.  They were _already_ contaminated-- more so than most believed possible.  

***

                "Coming over Lat Am pretty soon," Carl said.  Boris nodded in his veritech.  

                "Got that… why didn't we just come in direct?"

                "Orders-- with everything going on with  the zentraedi right now, meeting an independent leader might get some people PO'd. "

                "Leonard  the jackass?"

                "None other…"  Boris snorted at that.  "He's still trying to get his own army, you know that…"

                "god…let me retire before-- what?"  Carl had been interrupted by his com.

                "All veritechs, a zentraedi scout ship has lifted from the ocean and is on a course towards the Rio space port-- engage immediately!"

                "Boris, you stay here-- we'll come back just as soon as we're finished with that ship."

                "Why do you get all the fun?"  Boris asked.

                "'Cause I have seniority!"  Carl said, as the other three mecha peeled off.  

                Inside, Sharin listened to the com. Another group of malcontents-- a scout ship was dangerous, but it wouldn't survive an assault on the RDF.  She sighed.  If they were going to attack, they might as well be _competent_ at it.  She leaned back, and waited.  Another hour and a half and they'd be at their destination.    Then the ship shuddered violently.  A sudden glimpse of a black veritech, escorted by three fighter pods gave way to blue sky as the transport went into a desperate spin.

                Boris was cursing.  Where had they come from, and why were they shooting at _him?_  The fighter pods were keeping him busy, while a black veritech went after the transport.  His radio was full of jamming, and he couldn't break off long enough to help the VTOL.  He used his short range radio to give the transport orders.

                "Head for the jungle-- land there and wait!"  The transport tried. It really did.  But a particle beam sliced through part of the wing, and it began to stagger in the air.  Meanwhile, Boris took another hit from the mystery jet, and watched as half his panel lights turned red.  

                Sharin hung on for dear life.  Then, from the cockpit.

                "We're going to go into VTO-- you'll have to try and jump, this bitch won't stay in the air very long."  Sharin popped the passenger hatch and looked out in disbelief-- the ground was at least sixty feet down!  On the other hand, there was a clump of trees…maybe if she could break her-  The cabin flashed red as a particle beam destroyed the cockpit with the pilots in it.  Sharin needed no more imputus.  She jumped, desperately hoping that she'd be able to break her fall.  She was.  Painfully.  Branches hit her in the face, she used every foul word she could think of, and than the soft ground came up and hit her unreasonably hard. 

                She rolled over just in time to see the transport explode, as Boris' veritech came in guardian mode, shooting down one of the fighterpods, before being riddled with fire from the black veritech.  She watched as a last salvo of missiles detonated in the clearing, taking out mecha.  Sharin waited, as the fighterpods (what were left of them), and the veritechs took off, heading for the north.  The fire at the transports wreckage popped and hissed.

                A hand touched her and she spun around, ready to kill, and found herself looking up at a RDF pilot with "BORIS BADENOV" on his helmet, surmounted by some silly drawing.  He was big-- nearly as big as Korva was micronized, and a pair of brown eyes looked out at her when he pulled his sunglasses off.  He raised his hands to his lips, and gestured down away from the crash site. 

                They both walked quickly-- there was no sign they'd been followed, and Sharin wondered if they'd even been seen, but on the other hand, getting out of the area made sense.  They walked for almost an hour, not speaking, every sense alert for pursuit.  There was none. Finally, they stopped.

                "Well Lieutenant?"  Sharin asked.  Boris looked at her, and saw that everything he'd thought about her was true.  Yes, she was stacked like a battlefortress, yes, she was short coming up only to his chest, yes she had curly hair and a cute face…but he  noticed something else about her.

                Yes, she was very much a high ranking officer who was in an unhappy mood right now.  Carl was right-- a weakling wouldn't have the command she did, especially now, that there was no Dolza to hide behind. 

                "About that?" He asked, "I should ask you-- there were fighter pods."

                "I noticed…but fighter pods are easier to get a hold of than veritechs-- I should know, I've tried enough to obtain them."  She said, calmly but with an air of tension.  "More importantly, who wants to kill me?  Or more to the point, who wants to kill me in such a way as to make the RDF look responsible?"

                "You think?"  Boris asked in shock. "Ma'am-"

                "Call me Sharin-- I doubt discipline will suffer."  She said dryly.  "And yes, it makes sense-- my command staff was worried about this, and I know what most of them will think."

                "Then it couldn't be the RDF…unless…." 

                "Unless?"

                "Unless there were some that wanted an out and out battle with your group so they could kill them." He said reluctantly.  

                "Which means the sooner we get to a radio, the better." She said, 

                "Not right now." Boris said. "Anyone who'de do what just happened… has a lot of resources.  I think we need to get to a major base where there are enough people around that we don't have to worry about knives in the dark."

                "Agreed." Sharin sighed.  "And for both our sakes, I'd suggest avoiding any zentraedi-- where are we,  precisely."  Boris looked around the jungle.  

"This used to be Brazil-- RDF Rio and RDF Brasillia are the closest _big_ bases-- I can't imagine everyone there was in on this."

"How far?"

"About two hundred miles."  He said, Sharin looked at the jungle in disbelief.  Boris noted that and laughed.

"But there were some villages not more than twenty miles from here-- this region is fairly safe from Zen-er, raiders.  Once we get there, we can get on a road, and that'll go faster. " Sharin thought hard.

                "That's what we'll have to do-- but I'll need a radio as soon as possible."

                "To give those fellows another chance?"

                "To keep my soldiers from doing anything…rash."  Boris thought about that base, the mecha,  the thousands of troops, and nodded soberly.  

                "I can see that…lets go."

                END PART ONE.


	2. Chapter II

PART II

                Going was easier said than done.  The jungle didn't have any paths to speak of, and Sharin would have been hopelessly lost had not Boris managed to keep his inertial compass.  Even so, it was slow, hard going-- often they'd come to a gorge or river and have to back track.  Later that afternoon, they came to a crashed battlepod. The skeletal remains of the pilot lay at its feet.  Sharin paused, looking at the insignia.

                "One of Breetai's soldiers-- he was fighting for you."  She said, and became quiet.  Boris waited, and then spoke.

                "Why did you fight with Dolza?"  He said, "Ouch! Dammed vine!"

                "I didn't have much of a choice."  She said, "I was attached to Grand Fleet with my unit…why did Breetai fight for you?"

                "Because he was contaminated by micronian culture."  Sharin gave a small smile, 

                "And if Dolza had offered him a chance to return, rather than death, what do you think would have happened."  She paused, "As I said, I had little choice…just like Breetai."

                "So why aren't you launching raids on us?"

                "Because now…" Sharin stopped, and thought.  The silence lengthened and Boris almost opened his mouth, when she started talking again.  "…now we have a choice."  She said.  "I'm in charge-- and those who follow me do because they trust me-- it's not as if I could have them court-martialed.  I don't know if  we should continue a war that was launched by the robotech masters." 

                "The robotech masters?"  Boris was interested-- the majority of the zentraedi had never even seen them on a viewscreen, to say nothing of in person.  "You know about them?"

                "Yes-- and no, I never saw them either-- only the very high command, Breetai, Dolza, and a few others have directly communicated with them."  She kept walking, ducking under a low branch.  "But…"

                "But?"

                "Nothing."

                _But what did they ever do for you?_  A voice spoke in her head.

                In the open, twenty miles would be a hard three hour run, or a more leasurely walk over the course of a day.  In the jungle, it was much worse. By the end of the first day, they were less than ten miles from the crash site, and both were scratched, sore, and exhausted.  

                "Can we risk a fire?"  Boris wondered.  Sharin looked over at him.

                "Not in the open." She said.  "We need to find some shelter."  She looked up at the threatening clouds (rain had _never_ been a problem in space.)  "Soon, I think." She said, as the first drops began to fall.  

                Within minutes the rain was sleeting down so hard they could barely see ten feet…and that was the reason that they didn't see the river, swollen to a torrent by the rain. The brushes on the bank helped hide it. Sharin came to the edge, looked down at the swirling mass, and desperately backpedaled only to feel her feet go out from under her. 

                Boris heard a shocked scream from the bank, and turned to see his charge go vanishing over the side, followed by a splash.  The pilot ran over, to see Sharin being swept down stream, struggling to stay on top of the churning waters. 

                In the water, Sharin was flailing about-- she'd never swam before…in fact she'd never even been in water over her head!  That was for infantry soldiers, not commanders.  She had cause to regret that lack as she went under the water then made it to the surface, than was sucked back under.  Her uniform jacket was turning into a sodden weight, dragging her down.  She managed to free herself from it, but she couldn't do anything about her boots or pants, and started to go down again.  She opened her mouth to shout for help, got a mouthful of muddy water, and went back down.  Her vision started to gray out.

                _What a stupid way to die._ She thought, with vague irritation, and than didn't think again.

                Boris dove in, ignoring every rule of rescue-- most of which assumed that there was someone else to help you, so you didn't need to make any boneheaded move like leap into rushing water.  Fortunately, Boris had been the champion member of his high school swim team…before his high school and everyone else around it had been turned into plasma.  He hit the water, feeling the cold start to leach through his flight suit, and wondered how much worse it must be for Sharin, clad in clothes that were not waterproof.  Where was she… he saw her hand, limp, marking the spot where she was floating along.  Grabbing it, he started angling himself towards the bank, not trying to fight the current directly.    When he grabbed a branch that seemed strong enough to hold him, his arm nearly was ripped from its socket, and Sharin's dead weight almost pulled him loose. He managed to fight it, and pulled himself up onto the bank, pulling her up.  There was no time to rest. He flipped, Sharin over on her stomach and compressed her lungs, leading to a spray of water from her pale lips, as her lungs disgorged the water  she'd swallowed in her last desperate attempt to breath.  He flipped her back over and knelt over Sharin, putting his lips to hers, as he filled her lungs with air.

                _First time kissing a zentraedi…_ he thought with some humor.  Then, Sharin started to gasp and cough, breathing on her own even if she was still unconscious.  Boris looked around, and picked Sharin up.  They needed shelter, and Sharin would go into hypothermia if she were left out…

                ***

_                "Well, that was anticlamatic."  Sharin said, looking at the viewscreen of the dead world._

_                "Quite."  Tzarna said.  Sara Comofficer looked up from her communications bank._

_                "Confirmed-- Dolza's forces have boarded the battlefortress.  All Micronians' have been killed and we've recovered the matrix!"   Sharin smiled, looking up as the beaten remnants of Breetai's fleet fled, all order gone, pursued by the grand fleet._

_                "Now, we can."  Tzarna was bent over a table, and turned about to face Sharin.  Sharin gasped and staggered back at the carrion stench. "go back to killing for the Masters."  Maggots writhed in her empty eye sockets.    The monitors changed view to vast plains on the planet before, full of micronian bodies, with crows feeding off of them. The first Micronian that Sharin had met, Gary Chan, lay face up, a crow busily pulling one eyeball, out, before fighting with two others over who got the tidbit.   His mouth  moved._

_                "And we died for the masters…"_

_                "Just like I died for them." Her first commander walked over, her rotted flesh falling away to reveal cheekbones and part of her jaw.  Dolza was staring down at them from the view screen, beetles and maggots running through his rotted flesh and ragged robe._

_                "We all die for the masters." He said.  "That is the zentraedi way. We kill, then we die. Don't you know that?  I thought you were a good zentraedi." The others were somehow in__the command bubble, advancing on Sharin.  _

_                "If you can't kill, you have to die…because that's what the masters order."  Tzarna said, before her jaw fell off.  Sara's slimy hands grabbed Sharin by the arm. _

_                "Because we are only what the Masters made us.  We don't make our own decisions…we are theirs and we kill and we die for them.  It's easy."  Sharin screamed and wrenched free, staggering to the exit lock and hammering the code.  The door opened just as the others came towards her, chanting obedience to the masters in an unholy hymn.    Then she fell out and was on a plain, full of Micronian bodies…moving bodies. A sea of corruption grabbed her and started pulling her down._

_                "You killed us."  A young girl said, her face one massive blister from a heat wave.  _

_                "You killed us."  A woman said, holding her broken child.  _

_                "All you are is the master's creation."  A man said, grabbing her with his one remaining arm. "You can't be anything else…so come on down and join us."  _

_                "You killed us, and now you'll die-- here or somewhere else…it's the masters plan!"  A man said, before he reached inside his ribs to scratch at a particuarly annoying nest of maggots.  _

_                "No!  We're not…Let me go!"  Sharin screamed, struggling, bodies and parts of bodies flew in all directions, but suddenly she was micronized, and they were pulling her down.  _

_                "Not what?"  A kindly matron said as she pushed Sharin's head down under the bodies. "Not Zentraedi?  Kill and die for the Masters…that's what the Zentraedi **are**__dear… if you're not that, and you're not micronian… you're nothing.  Here. Let me help you."  Sharin's last screams were muffled as more and more corruption rose up…and pulled her down into the warm depths. _

"Ah!" Sharin gasped as she opened her eyes.  It was dark, the darkness only partially broken by a flickering fire, and she looked up into a shadowed cavern.  A few moments later, and she realized that it was the cockpit of a fighter pod, canted on its side.  The open canopy had provided entrance.  Sharin wondered where the pilot was-- he obviously had not returned.

                A silvery thermal blanket covered her, and her outer clothes were drying by the fire.  Boris was by it as well.  Hearing her, he looked over.

                "Back with the living, Commander?" Sharon shuddered at the image that conjured.  "Your underclothes…"  He shrugged, "Well, I figured you might want to keep them on."

                "Why?" Sharon said. Truthfully, they were only slightly damp-- unlike the outer clothes, undergarments were also designed to be worn with flight suits and spacearmor, so they were of a different fabric that shed water.  Still… "Or is that some micronian thing?"

                "Well… undressing a woman isn't…"  Boris looked for the word, "proper."

                "And if she was dying?"

                "Oh, then It's ok."  Sharin shook her head.  Micronians!  The fire had warmed the interior of the pod, and the thermal blanket was actually a bit too warm now. Sharin put it to the side, and walked over to the fire. 

                Boris gulped as the zentraedi walked over towards him.  Boris liked women. He really did…and this was a definite women.  Female zentraedi didn't wear bra's-- they had tanktop style garment that did the same job, but it was struggling in this case.  The rest of her wasn't bad at all either.

                Two things kept Boris from saying one of his trademark pick up lines. First of all, the fact that he was assigned to guard this leader of a group of non-aligned zentraedi…and if she decided to go to war because of his bad pickup attempt… well he was Russian, and Gloval was Russian, which meant he had a very good idea of just how horribly he'd pay for that. 

                Secondly… Boris had been prey to more than a few nightmares-- probably nobody on earth hadn't been…and that looked like the aftermath of a nightmare that had woken her up.  She was looked at the fire intently, her face shadowed and closed in the flickering light.

                "What's the problem with the fire?"  he asked, jokingly.  She replied, in a serious voice.

                "It's the first time I've seen a fire used for this-- the last time I saw a fire close up was…"

                "After the bombardment?"

                "No. That was via monitor-- the last time I saw one this close was off V'ran."

                "V'ran?"

                "It was a small mining colony-- I had been ordered to evacuate it, and my fleet did so….but the Invid were there, in number…so many…" Her voice trailed off, then returned. "They hit us just as  we had  loaded the colonists and equipment.  My ships couldn't retreat, couldn't maneuver…we held  off the first two waves, but then we had to re-arm the mecha units…"  She closed her eyes in memory, "And then they hit us with a wave that was twice the size of the first two combined.  We lost the destroyers in the first attack…"  She didn't say anything else after that for a time.

                "What happened?"  Boris asked. 

                "I ordered one of the surviving destroyers evacuated, and then I triggered a detonation sequence in the reflex engines-- like what your SDF-1 did to Dolza, on a smaller scale.  We all swarmed aboard the other ships and freighters, and the Invid decided to destroy the warship first."

                "How'd you survive?"

                "I didn't expect too-- but Tzarna --the Zentran female that I was talking to on the tarmac--, she came aboard in her armor and rescued me, got me off just before it went up."  She smiled, a bittersweet expression, "It was that showing that got me posted to Dolza in time for this battle…" her voice grew soft, "My old flagship… I'd spent my entire life on it…more than twenty micronian years." Boris blinked at that-- she didn't look older than tw-oh, the accelerated growth thing.  "I remember the fire…the smell as it died around me. When we got back, it was sent to recycling, and I got the new ship."

                "Did you lose many people?" Boris asked.

                "Oh, yes…we lost nearly the entire flight group, except for the elite units…crew…some of the freighters…all honored in the name of the masters…all replaced and forgotten the next day, of course."  She said, Boris heard bitterness…and even…_fear?_ In her voice.

                "So, Lieutenant, what do you do when you change, what do you call it… jobs?"  She asked. 

                "Find another one." Boris said, 

                "And if your job is your life?"  Boris didn't say anything.

                "I-"  She looked at him. "If Breetai is right, if all that is said is true, than what are we? Toys', weapons?  All the deaths  of zentraedi, from the first to the last, were useless-- all the medals and honors just methods to keep us happy."  She said,  "But  if that's the case, what are we now?  Do we become what _you_ want? Become your image, instead of the Master's?"  Boris was surprised, that he could read her so easily…but then.

                _This is the first zentraedi that you've really talked to-- beyond "die scumtraedi!"  And they don't have civilian life-- so you don't' need to worry about social settings or interactions…_  She was a fleet commander, and he had no doubt that in a fight, or military base she was kick ass…but in some very real respects, your average teenager had her beaten in the interpersonal department.   Add that to their lack of peacetime skills, and he could see her problem. Somehow Boris didn't see her happily entering into private life for the rewarding field of "do you want fries with that, sir." 

                "And I have to take care  of my people…they are my people, even if nobody else cares for them." She said softly, almost to herself. 

                "What about your micronians?"  Boris said, "don't they get a choice?" Before she could say anything else he continued, "And I've heard about that, work with us or be exiled-- but you've stripped every city for miles around-- that's not much of a choice, is it? And I bet you wouldn't let the workers or engineers go even to starve."

                "You might be right."    She said, equably.  "We need that factory-- we need micronians to tell us how to build and maintain machinery for ourselves.. and I don't know if I can trust you and the UEG.  If we gave up everything, and asked for your protection, would you?  Would you protect us from the purifiers, or would the fact that they are micronian cause you to hold your hand."

                "I've dealt with bandits…"

                "Yes, but what about bandits who only attack zentraedi?"  She asked  Boris shook his head.

                "I don't know…what about you?"

                "I don't know…" She repeated his words. "I know that we need to change…but I don't know how, or when, or even if I have the right to make other's changes for them."

                "You haven't said this…"

                "To anyone else?  No."  Sharin said, "Tzarna would lock me up for my own good." She closed her eyes, "And she might be attacking the RDF right now-- we need to get to a communicator to get in touch with her."

                "there might be a radio at the village, but it might not reach."

                "Don't' worry about that-- but it needs to be done quickly."  She looked over to him, "Because it's obvious that someone wants to start a conflict, and I don't want to give them the satisfaction."

                "Who?"  Boris said, He had some ideas, but wondered what Sharin thought.

                "Not purely zentraedi-- but not necessarily RDF, either." She said.  "There was only one veritech, and several zentraedi fighters-- so it could be anything from a deep conspiracy, to a few disgruntled individuals."

                "I'd bank on deep conspiracy."  Boris said.  "less painful if you guess wrong."

                "Yes."  The fire was beginning to burn low. Boris hadn't been able to find enough dry wood to keep it going, and in any case, a fire was a risk.  He reached back and grabbed the thermal blanket. "We'll have to snuggle-"

                "Snuggle?" 

                "Ah, er… keep together-- the thermal blanket will keep us warm."    The chamber was still warm, but it was cooling off rapidly.  Sharin let Boris drape the blanket across the two of them.  Reaction from her close call was hitting her, as she felt her eyes start to get heavy.  She'd have to apologize to Korva she thought-- ground ops were _very_ difficult. 

                Boris reclined back with Sharin on his side. He wasn't worried-- in fact it was better that she sleep, rather than try to stay up.  He'd thought about maintaining watch, but he was pretty damned tired too.  Now all-  he gulped.  Sharin was lying against him, and she was very squishable…in fact it was..

                _Down boy!_  He kicked himself mentally, and concentrated on putting the face of his forth grade teacher, the one who had forever traumatized him at the school play, instead of seeing the real, and relaxed face of Sharin.

                _Around twenty years old…_  He thought-- about his age in years…but Sharin had never been a kid, never ran, or toddled, or said a first word to her mom.  She'd been decanted, not born, and had probably faced her first Invid a few days later. 

                And now… there was no Zentraedi armada or empire, or anything else.  Boris realized what he'd missed about the zentraedi he'd fought, and what he saw in Sharin.  There was _fear_.  They were literally having to give up everything-- everything they'd ever believed, and they were afraid.  Some of them were like Sharin, and didn't let it rule them, but they were all afraid.  Boris abruptly wondered about all the zentraedi on the fleet-- maybe they were there not simply to defend earth, but to defend earth without having to be anything other than Zentraedi-- or at least without having to change any more than they had already.

                Boris leaned back, and as the fire dimmed and the thunder grumbled, fell asleep. 

                When Boris woke up, the sun had broken through the sky and sunlight filled the pod's interior.  He looked around, and saw Sharin, in her pants and uniform shirt, perched on a equipment panel, eating a ration bar.  She tossed one to him. 

                "You were tired, so I let you sleep."  She said.

                "We should have gotten an early start." He replied.  She shook her head. 

                "Every time a commander tries to get tired troops in action so he can 'get more done' less gets done."  She shrugged, "We need to move quickly, and that won't happen if we're staggering over our own steps."  Boris grinned.  _That _was an admiral speaking-- and one he'd like to have had as a superior.

                "Voice of experience?"

                "Yes."  Sharin replied.  Boris bit into the ration bar and grimaced.  

                "What do they do to this stuff?"  he asked.  Sharin looked surprised.

                "It was fairly good, actually.  Better than standard zentraedi rations."  

                "And you still eat them?"  He asked.

                "Well, yes-- my crew eats them.  Why should I do any different?"  Boris grinned, 

                "Privileges of rank?"  Sharin looked at him, with a combination of annoyance and resignation.

                "My privileges are to lead them to victory, not to eat better than they do."  She shrugged, "We'd better get started."

                "Yeah…"

                The day went faster than the one before had-- they were more rested, and the rain had beaten down some of the underbrush-- although it had also left many streams impassible.  

                "I think… there's a road up here."  Boris said, "In fact I-" he cut off, and Sharin also froze, as Boris unsnapped his pistol and put a finger to his lips, before moving ahead.  The sound they'd heard had been a gunshot, no mistaking that. 

                There was a truck on the road, with a body half in and half out of the drivers compartment, messily dead. Several ragged individuals stood around three other people, pointing guns at them.

                "Where are the guns!"

                "We don't have any guns-- none at all!" A woman said, trying to hide her child behind her.  The untidy individual speaking to her backhanded her to the ground, where she lay, stunned, as her crying child shook her.

                "Mama!  Mama!"  The first man raised his gun to the child, as the third individual, an older man, tried to convince him to stop.

                "Please! You can take the truck, if only-"

                "We don't want the truck!"  

                "Good, you don't get it." Boris said, his pistol raised and covering all of them. "Drop those guns, and start walking."  He said.  The men looked at him, smiling. 

                "Maybe you should drop your gun…" One said.  "Because we are not the only ones here…"  Boris tensed, and then there was a thump, as another individual fell out of the underbrush, and rolled out, dead, his head laying at an unnatural angle.  Sharin walked out after him, gun in her hands, eyes deadly.

                "My  companion is human…and merciful." She said, "I  am Zentraedi…and not merciful.  You have five seconds to drop your weapons, strip your clothes off, and leave, or I kill you. Five…Four…"  Guns hit the ground, followed by clothes.  Soon, four naked men were trudging off down the road. 

                "We should kill them."  Sharin said.

                "No…" Boris said. "Unless they have a gang?"  He looked over to the older man."

                "No, Senor, they are just a group of ex soldiers-- I've never seen them with anything more than they left here…"  Boris looked satisfied, although  Sharin kept her gun on them until they vanished.  Boris and the man moved the corpse of the driver back into the truck's cargo compartment, while Sharin helped the woman up.

                "Oh thank you, You are an angel!"  She said. Sharin frowned.  

                "No…. I'm not." Was all she said.  When they'd gotten the truck sorted out, Boris and Sharin sat in the drivers compartment with the three-- the woman and child sat in the back seats of the compartment.  

                Boris watched Sharin as they drove the last ten miles into the village.  There was no sign of worry on her face. 

                "Aren't you…bugged?"

                "Why?  Oh, him?" She said.  "He wasn't watching his back, and I broke his neck-- we all receive that training, even if we never expect to use it."

                "You killed him."

                "Yes.  I needed his weapon."  She paused, "anything else would have been tactically foolish.  Should I have done something else?"  She said, looking at him.

                "I…no."  

                The village was based around a crashed re-entry pod, the large structure serving as a town hall, shelter and warehouse all in one.   A watch tower surmounted in, and some crudely welded Regult autocannon provided a rough, but effective, defensive battery.  Sharin was unimpressed.

                "useful against marauders-- but a single squad of soldiers could neutralize it." Boris had to agree, but felt cheered.

                "That's a good thing-- in means there haven't been any squads of soldiers around her recently."  Sharin nodded, then abruptly brightened up. 

                "Boris, if that unit still has and intact cockpit, I can get in touch with Tzarna!"

                "Hang on, it's probably been pretty trashed."  

                "Trust me, telemetry beacons are very hard to hurt, and they don't have much day to day use for a scavenger."

                "First lets talk to the locals." Boris said.  

                A delegation of villagers was walking towards them. Boris saw a priest and two older men, with several other younger men flanking them, armed with hunting rifles and a single submachine gun. The priest looked at them both.

                "I thank you for saving our fellows…but I am surprised."  He said, turning to Sharin. "Those who wear the insignia of the zentraedi are seldom friendly."  Sharin was still wearing her shirt, and she nodded back. 

                "I'm from Asia."  Sharin said, "And I was on my way to discuss…peace with the RDF before we were shot down."

                "Ah… I see."  Boris broke in.

                "But those who shot us down might still be looking for us, so could we trouble you for a ride?"  The priest shook his head, regretfully.

                "The truck is the only vehicle we have…and  is vital-- we could radio…" He looked at them, "But I think you might not wish that…stay here tonight, and we will see what we can do."  Boris nodded, and then pointed to the pod.

                "Can we see the control room-- there might be a way to contact some friends."

                "Certainly, my son…and then you and your companion shall eat with us."  Sharin and Boris needed no more permission and quickly scrambled up to the cockpit of the pod.  

                "Where is it…" Sharin muttered, than pointed to a box nearly as big as Boris.  "There!" She said.  

                "Great…what do we do with it?"

                "Open it!" She said, working on the latches. An hour later, with the aid of a crowbar, they finally had it open.  

                "normally, the pilot triggers it…but it could also be triggered by micronians."  She said.  "The re-entry pods are an old design-- it's said that when they were first designed, the robotech masters sent their own personnel along to oversee affairs."  She looked and unlocked a case, which revealed a keyboard, "Thus, they needed micronian sized keypads."   Sharin looked at it, quickly punched in a code, and while the lights on the box lit up, turned to Boris.

                "I'm going to send a very short message-- I don't want to run the risk of being intercepted."

                "But you can't use line of site-- you'll have to."

                "Standard procedure of any zentraedi force is to release relay sats… and I'll bet there are a number sill up there-- they're very hard to find… in fact, we never even bothered to recover them after a battle…"  A light flicked on, "Ah! There's one now…"  Sharin quickly typed in a message, speaking as she  typed. 

                "Tzarna-- Am alive.  Intercepted by unknown force, not, repeat not, RDF.  Take no hostile action. Will communicate with you later.  Do not initiate communication.  Sharin."

                "Short."  Boris said.

                "But it says everything that needs to be said, and doesn't give overly much information away in case anyone was able to eavesdrop"  

                "Could they?"

                "Difficult-- the cipher key I used was one Sara had come up with after we grounded… but not entirely impossible."   She looked at Boris, "But there's an element of risk to everything."  She grabbed the crowbar, "Now we can insure that there's no leak from this unit."  as she smashed the console and the delicate circuitry within.  

                Later that night, they all ate with the villagers.  Sharin was looking at her bean and rice meal dubiously, but finally conquered her fears and started eating.  Suddenly, she got a beatific look on her face and happily devoured it. The priest looked at her and smiled, before turning to Boris.

                "I wish some of my more… stern friends had lived to see this-- instead of being damned by the world, being saved by the world."  Boris laughed, 

                "Well, she's quite the zentraedi."  He said, 

                "But troubled." The priest, Michael said. "I could see that…"

                "how?"

                "My young friend-- I am nearly sixty…and zentraedi have little experience in being as devious as humanity."

                "Yeah…well, she doesn't really know where she's going…" Boris said, uncertain of how much to say. "You do one thing all your life, and it's kinda hard to change."  The priest nodded.

                "Well, you be certain to stay near her."  He said,  "The younger generation laughs, but you were meant to be near her, perhaps for a very important reason…"

                "Ah yeah… about that-- I was wondering, could I loot you for some clothes?"

                "clothes?"

                "Yeah, I don't think having 'shoot me, I'm a zentraedi officer' clothes is a good idea…something that would work more to blend it."

                "Ah!  Yes, of course…and we also have found some transport for you…although he's a bit unusual."  The priest finished his meal, and Boris looked at him.

                "_He's_ Unusual?"

                The next morning, Sharin and Boris were ready to leave. The priest and the village elders had given him a map which would take them to another village about forty miles away, by back routes and hopefully avoid anyone until they made their destination-- and better yet, the village had a dirt airstrip-- which Boris intended to make use of.   The village women had quickly made a clothing collection for Sharin, and she was standing, looking more than a little uncomfortable in a  white blouse with a colorful abstract pattern done on the sleeves, complementing her bluejeans and a multicolored sarape.  

                "Excellent!"  Boris said, "Nobody would mistake you for a zentraedi commander now!"  She glared at him.

                "Including myself."  Sharin said, looking at the clothes.  "The women said there are other clothes in the pack."

                "Good…we'll need them." He said.  "And here's our robotech transport."  Sharin stared.  It was a four footed animal, that stared back at her with disdain.  Boris smiled, "Behold…'El Burro!'  We'll leave him at the village and they'll pick him up later."  Sharin frowned.

                "Can we trust that…thing?"

                "Trust me, totally reliable."  He said, "Better than a veritech, and it doesn't run on protoculture."  He waved at the village, and than without losing any time, they started off.   Boris would have liked to spend more time, but in truth they needed to get moving-- perhaps he should have called for a pick up, but the specter of what a black veritech could do to the village kept him from trying.

                ***

                "Zor, cursed, thing…will you…**move!?**"  Sharin pulled on the burro's reigns, and the beast glared at her, letting out a tremendous bray.  Boris looked back in amusement.

                "Sharin, you have to convince it to come with you… anyway, just one more ridge and we're into better territory-- they weren't kidding when they said this was a back route!"  He looked at the ridge once more.

                "Don't you turn your back on me you-" He turned back around.

                "Sharin, you might want  to get out of his-"

                "What?" Sharin had turned around to see what he was saying when El Burro let fly with pinpoint accuracy, scoring a direct hit on her Gluteus Maximus, sending her sprawling.  

                "Sharin, are you ok!?"  Boris asked, leaping down.  She groaned. 

                "Yes… but I'm in some pain… If I trade them a battle pod, can I please kill that disgusting beast?"  Boris laughed.

                "It's not disgusting…. You just have to get to know it… Here fellow." He said, and it came walking towards him. "My family bred horses…and you just have to deal with burro's like small, smart, stubborn horses."  The piece of hard candy he'd held for it was licked up immediately.  "Oh, and bribe them, definitely bribe them."

                "Hmph."  Sharin muttered.  Boris looked at her.

                "That probably hurt a bit-- how about if you ride him, and I'll lead him."  Sharin looked at the animal, in great disdain, then got on its back. El Burro flicked an ear, but with another bribe of hard candy, submitted.

                As usual, forty miles stretched out longer than it would have on a road, and neither Sharin nor Boris were used to the new (well, old) method of measuring distance by how long it took to walk there.  Sharin, it had to be mentioned, was also not used to walking so far with a pack-- something else command officers left for ground grunts.

                Boris set a punishing pace, and Sharin, not wishing to dishonor the zentraedi, kept up with him-- and in any case, like most zentraedi, she was in very good condition.   By the end of the first day, she ached.  Her entire body ached.  She had figured that riding would be easier…but she'd never ridden an animal before-- she'd never _seen_ an animal before. She was convinced that El Burro took delight in making things worse than they had to be, although it didn't try to kick Boris.  

                "Errr…." She said as she sat before the fire.  They were in a small canyon that shielded the fire from most eyes, so they could risk it.  She hunched over-- every part of her was sore, her arms, legs, feet… she glared at El Burro, unconcernedly grazing a few feet away.  Boris looked at her, and moved behind her.  

                "Here-- hang on." He said, and Sharin felt his hands on her shoulders, as he started to firmly massage them.  Sharin was about to ask what he was doing, when she felt the pain and tension begin to leach out of them.  She sighed in contentment.

                "Do zentraedi massage?"  He asked, 

                "No…"

                "What did you do when you weren't fighting?"

                "prepared to fight some more." Sharin said.  "We had…games, but they were really training drills."

                "What about medicine? You had to have it for injured."

                "Not really-- if you were too badly injured to heal on your own, you died-- unless you were an officer or an ace, in which case you could be healed…poorly."  She paused, "One of the Micronians living with us is a doctor-- if he had been on scene, Breetai would never need his eyeplate."    

                "Nice people…"  Boris said. 

                "Do you waste worry on a missile?"

                "Well I want it to work…"

                "Same principle." She finished, as he kept massaging her shoulders.  Boris decided to ask the question.

                "Sharin…you don't look like most female zentraedi…they're tall and well…you're…"

                "Short?"

                _and__ curvy_ Boris didn't say.

                "Yes."

                "I was a clone prototype.  The Masters had the idea of create a smaller, faster zentraedi to better use mecha.  Better reflexes would make up for our smaller size."

                "And?"

                "A failure. My reflexes are no more than average, and worse than the average elite pilot."  She leaned back, "I am weaker and shorter than any of my compatriots-- my clone sisters were terminated, the line ended."  

                "But what about you?"

                "I was already decanted-- my first commander did try to have me terminated, but I survived, and discovered a talent for predicting Invid strategies."  She gave a very rare smile, and Boris was amazed at how it changed  her face, "In fact, I became very, very good at it…which eventually led to my transfer from mecha to ship operations…and command."

                "Wow… sounds like you had some close calls."

                "Close calls?"

                "Er…almost died several times."

                "Yes."  She said.  "Boris…what about you-- how did you end up in a veritech?"

                "My whole family's been military, one way or another, and I joined up at 17 just before the SDF-1 got hit." He shrugged. "I spent the rest of  the war in a submersible carrier-- when Dolza hit us, we were a thousand feet under the pacific ocean…most of my family was away from the major impact zones, so they survived…mostly."  He transferred his attentions to her lower back, attacked the knotted muscles there, "After that, well, there may be peace in a while, but my life's been pretty busy."

                "There won't be peace-- not if the Robotech Master's come."

                "You think they will?"  He asked her, remembering to file this information away for debriefing.

                "If they can-- the Invid wish us dead…because we stand in the way of killing the masters. But the Masters will be destroyed utterly if the Invid get to them, and their only hope now lies here.  They may not be able to-- they were also suffering protoculture depletion."

                "Comforting thought…"    He said.  "And what would you do if there was real peace-- if we found out that nobody else could get here, and the RDF and zentraedi came to peace?" She was silent for so long that Boris was afraid he'd offended her, but then.

                "I… I'm not certain."  She paused. "I can fight-- in battle I can direct a fleet, I can _see_ what the best course to victory is…but…  I'm blind when people talk about peace."  She turned around and looked at him.  "My settlement, thousands of warriors, ships, mecha… micronians building and helping us learn how to build…but always in terms of maintaining our forces.  But if the day comes when we don't need those forces… I don't know.  What would you do?"

                "Find a family, get a job as an airline pilot, maybe go back to school."  Boris shrugged, "In our civilization, the military isn't even the biggest thing-- although obviously that changes during a war." Sharin didn't say anything, and Boris fell quiet as she looked at the fire.  He was coming to know that look-- she was thinking about something that didn't have a solution-- at least not an apparent one. 

                "We'd better get to sleep… at least now we have our own blankets." He said, smiling.  Sharin didn't react, still deep in thought, as Boris got the blankets.

                "_Peace is declared!"  The shouts echoed through the ship. _

                _"Of course, there will be some changes." The Robotech masters said, looking down from the screens.  "Everybody can't be Miriya or Breetai, after all!"  Sharin was in a line, behind a private, in front of an admiral.  Part of her wondered what the problem was, why the line._

_                "Well, Here's the end to war!"  A captain said as he walked up to a bioroid and gave it his insignia. The Bioroid blew his head off, his body tumbling into an abyss. _

_                "Next!" The private walked forward.  Then it was her turn._

_                "Congratulations on the peace, Commander, and best of luck in your next endevour!"  The bioroid said, before lowering its gun drum at her head.  _

Sharin's eyes snapped open.  The night was deep, the fire only embers. In the distance, something gave a mournful howl.  El Burro was asleep on his feet, and Boris also was asleep. She looked around, and rose to her feet, padding silently over to the lip of the small depression.  There was no hint of light on the horizon…

                "What's wrong?"  Boris said behind her.  Sharin looked back.  She hadn't heard him rise.

                "Nothing."  

                "Bull."  He said with a certain amount of ruthless cheerfulness.  "You've had a nightmare-- second one since I've met you, which is impressive, because you've only slept three times."

                "It was… about what might happen after peace…" She said, reluctantly.  

                "And it scares you."

                "Yes."  Sharin said.  

                "It doesn't have to be that way."  Boris said.  "Everything I told you I might do, you could as well-- heck, in some respects you're better off than me!" Sharin looked dubious, and Boris moved ahead. "You are twenty years old physically, but you have more experience than any human your age!  Running a company, or a school, isn't much different than running a military unit!"  Sharin looked at him soberly.

                "But only if you have the opportunity." She said, "Many humans proclaim that we are…programmed for war."

                "Bull."  He said again.  "Grow up knowing nothing but fighting and you'll be a fighter-- that's common sense, not genetics."   He looked at her. "How many people back home do you talk about with this?"

                "Few.  Many don't like to talk about it…and right now,  for a commander to admit having no idea what to do…is a danger."  She said.

                "A danger?"

                "Yes-- I have the official right to lead….but that right was conferred by Dolza and the Robotech Masters…"

                "And…"

                "and in reality, it is only tradition and trust that binds my officers and soldiers to me…and our allied forces." Sharin said, and gestured at the land around them.  "Do you think these tiny bands started that way?  They did not, but if every soldier decides he has the best idea…then the only way to gather a force is to convince them, one by one, and keep them convinced."

                "I know-- it can get pretty bad, no way to predict what they're going to do."  Sharin rounded on him.

                "It is your best fortune! What do you think would happen if _all_ the zentraedi of the grand fleet who survived were joined together in to one force? You and Breetai combined would be hard pressed."

                "And you're afraid of that."  He said. 

                "That…or of them following me to disaster because they trust me." Sharin said.  "But I can't speak of it to them… I dare not.  Even my closest allies, Korva, Tzarna…they don't understand the knife edge we stand on."  She looked at him, with a stern expression that didn't mask her miserable loneliness. 

                "Sharin…" Boris said, "come here…there's something micronians do at times like this."

                "You're not suggesting a…kiss." Boris laughed, 

                "No…something else."  He took her by her shoulders and pulled her into his chest, dropping his hands to her back. Sharin didn't resist.

                "Now put your arms around _my_ back."  He said.  She did and he felt her…felt her actually trembling.  

                Sharin was frozen.  What was she doing?  She could feel the micronians body, his heat, his scent…she'd never been this close to a male before, and she'd rather have embraced an Invid.  Except… she didn't feel like that.  In fact… Sharin leaned her head against his chest.  

                "What is this supposed to accomplish?"  She asked.

                "Mama always said a hug was the best way to let you know the universes greatest lesson…that you don't have to be alone." Boris said softly.  "Sharin, I don't know your people…but I think the one thing you have to learn, is that you don't have to be alone…you can let other people in." He pushed her back looking down into her eyes.  "The masters made this society, always military, always alone, always giving orders or taking orders…and that's not how people were meant to live." He paused, "They were meant to live together, as friends, family…generation to generation."  Sharin dropped her eyes, unable to meet his.

                "But my responsibilities."  She said, Suddenly, Boris took her by the chin and gently forced her to look into his eyes.

                "Is that the voice of the Robotech Masters I hear?  I've never heard trust used in relation to them…" He stopped searching for words, then continued, "Sharin… there comes a point when you have to trust… or you can't go forward. Trust your friends, trust your enemies even…but if you don't, you'll be stuck, forever." He smiled, "Like a hug-- you have to let somebody close enough to hurt you before they can help you."

                "And this always works?" Sharin said.  

                "Not always, and once you let someone in…they can hurt you a lot worse." Boris said, "But it's worth it." There was no doubt in his voice, none at all.  Sharin said nothing, then looking up.

                "I need…to think about this."           

                "I bet you do…it's a lot to think about." He replied, and gently unlinked his arms from around her.  Sharin didn't do the same for along moment, and then started, almost jumping back.

                "Thank you Boris…" She said, and then, uncomfortably. "We'd better get back to sleep," Boris nodded.

                "That'd be a good idea."  He said, walking to his blanket.  Sharin did the same and curled up in her blanket.  Part of the night she thought about finding some way for her people to make their way in a world without war…but as she fell asleep, she found herself thinking about how it had felt to be in Boris's arms…how she had, for the first time she could remember, not felt alone.

                The next morning there was little conversation. Boris didn't say much, and if he noticed Sharin staring at him, he didn't react to it.  This time, Sharin walked, possibly to avoid El Burro dumping her like he had yesterday.     The Burro flicked an ear in victory. 

                "I think…" Boris said, than heard the roaring sound of a jet.

                "Oh Hell! Let's go-"

                "No!" Sharin snapped, the expectation of obedience in her voice.  "We'll never get to cover-- all we would do is make them wonder why we're running!"  Boris looked up as a black veritech rose over the two and converted to gerwalk. For a moment he stared his death in the face, then the veritech waved at them, waggled its wings, and transformed back to fighter, leaving. 

                "Oh God!"  He said, "Don't do that again to me any time soon."

                "He  must have thought we were micronians."  Sharin said.  

                "Well, by tonight we should be at the village." Boris said, "If we get a move on."  

                "Oh yes." Sharin said, starting out.    The region they were in was easier going, and they started moving quickly-- Boris felt like he was going to grow eyes in the back of his head, but the veritech didn't return, nor did the hordes of zentraedi his mind kept conjuring up. Sharin seemed perfectly fine with it-- as worried as she was about her place in the universe, there was nothing to be done about enemy mecha, so she didn't worry about it.  

                Finally, they came over the last hill and saw a village-- well a town compared to the last one, with a single dirt strip, a main street, and people…lots of people (well at least 800), with lanterns and the sounds of a band.  Boris grinned.

                "Looks like we stumbled into a party-- we're not going to get out before tomorrow." 

                "Why not?"

                "A festival-- everyone will be enjoying themselves… which isn't a bad idea."

                End Part II.


	3. Chapter III

                When they got down to the town, they were immediately swept up into the mass of people.  Sharin had been among micronians, but as a commander, a zentraedi, with all the respect (and even fear) that led too.  Here, there wasn't any at all, and the crowd was disorienting.  She saw humans, and even micronized zentraedi playing strange games, ranging from throwing a ball at a pile of cans, to trying to hit a brightly colored paper object while blindfolded.  Boris looked over at her.

                "I'll put 'el Burro' in the stable and let them know where he's supposed to go."  Sharin nodded, very happy never to see the beast again, and than quickly slipped to the side as it looked like El Burro was considering lining up for a parting shot.  Boris looked over across the street and saw the inn.  

                "Meet me there in… about ten minutes."

                "Yes."  She said, and watched as he left.  Sharin looked around and walked along the street, watching the micronians at play. The things they were doing were…well odd.  Sharin was nearly run over by a horde of micronian children, her mind shying away from how you _get_ micronian children, and then desperately withdrew from an ally where "Stage Fright" was playing, giving her the same feeling that a cat gets when it's tossed into an icy lake.   Some one bumped her at that point.

                Excuse me! The voice said…in zentraedi!  Sharin turned around and saw a Zentraedi male looking at her. 

                Hello…  She said back to him. He looked at her in surprise.

                Zentraedi too, I see.  He smiled, New here?

                I'm just…passing through,  She said, tomorrow I leave.   The zentraedi, his closed cropped brown hair over a pair of blue eyes, smiled at that.

                well, you've come at a good time, comrade-- enjoy yourself here-- and come to the dance later tonight!  He said as a female zentraedi came walking up and slipped her arm around him possessively. 

                Virik, whose this?  She asked. 

                Ah…

                Sharin, Sharin supplied.

                Sharin, he said, I'm Virik and this is my wife, Mela  The female nodded, while Sharin's mind tried to wrap itself around the concept of Zentraedi and "wife".  

                You live around here? The woman said, 

                No-- me and my companion have to catch a flight..and this is the only…

                Only airstrip that is not under RDF control in the area. The male supplied. They can get a little sticky about civilians using their facilities.

                Civilians?  Sharin said, in surprise.

                Oh yes, Mela said, I hope you're not one of those 'the zentran shall rise again?' types.  Virik laughed at that.

                No… the commander of an entire zentraedi city said. but what do you do?

                Work on a farm.  Virik said.  We both crashlanded after the battle and decided not to continue fighting…so we were micronized and traded some material we'd found for land and lessons on how to use it.

                What's it like?

                Hard, Mela said, But good…it's _ours_…and will be our children's.  Virik put his arm around his wife's waist, where she leaned into him. Sharin gulped at the images presented.   The return of Boris saved her.

                "Hello,"  He said, cautiously. Sharin looked up at him.

                "Boris…this is Virik and Mela…I just met them." She said.  Boris reached out and shook their hand, while Sharin continued, "Virik has suggested that we should come to a…'dance'?"  She said.  Boris blinked then smiled.

                "I think that's a good idea…will we see you there?" He asked the two.  

                "Oh certainly… do you have a dress?"  Mela asked Sharin.

                "Ah what?" Sharin said intelligently.  She had a feeling she wasn't doing a good job pretending to be a long micronized zentraedi. 

                "A dress."  Mela repeated. Boris saved her.

                "There was one in the packs-- I put them at the inn, and we'll get them."

                "Good!" Virik said, "You can eat at the inn-- the food's good, and we'll see you later tonight!"  With a wave, he and his wife left down the crowded road.  Sharin looked after them.

                "Those were…zentraedi."

                "Yes they were.  Remember what I said about being close?…and finding other things to do with your life?"  Sharin didn't say a thing about that.. but her face was a study in concentration as they walked to the inn.  Once inside their room, she noticed that it only had one bed.

                "Sorry, only room left-- I'll sleep on the floor."  Boris said.  Sharin blinked at that.  

                "Unless you're saying that you couldn't restrain yourself around me, I think we could share the bed."  She said.  Boris laughed.

                "I'll try…nice people you met."

                "Yes…."  Sharin said.  "Now… what about this dress?"  She'd seen dresses before, of course, but largely had never worried about them.  Boris pulled it out, and put it on the bed, and than left, promising to knock after she'd showered and changed.  

                The shower was delightful-- never mind the old pipes groaned, but Sharin could feel the grime leaving her. The dress… took twice as long as the shower, but finally, she had it on…correctly, she hoped.  A white blouse with pale red trim and a dark brown skirt, it looked…odd on her. Finally, there was a white cloth that she had no idea what to do with.  When she opened the door, Boris looked up. He blinked and than his eyes widened.

                "Wow-ah, very good, Sharin." He grinned, as she waved the cloth at him in frustration.

                "What do I do with this?" She asked.

                "It's a head scarf. Here…"  He tied it on her so it was covering her hair.  "See?"

                "It seems fairly useless." She said.  

                "Useful isn't the point of a dress, Sharin. It's supposed to make you look pretty."

                "Does it?"  He stepped back and looked at her, a broad smile on his face.

                "Oh yes."

                Down in the restaurant, Boris had already bought a meal that was brought to their table. Nobody noticed them much-- just another pair enjoying the opportunity to have fun during the festival.

                "What is the festival for?" Sharin asked.

                "The town's celebrating its birthday since the rain of death." Boris said.  Sharin nodded, then looked at her food.

                "I've never had anything like this…" She said.  "I see why you didn't like the ration bars."

                "It's good." Boris said.  "But like a lot of things, micronian food is supposed to be good."  Sharin smiled, doubtfully.

                "You're bugged by Virik and Mela?"

                "Bugged?"

                "Troubled."

                "A little."  She said.  "They seem to enjoy themselves, but are they zentraedi anymore?"

                "What's zentraedi?" Boris asked.  "If it's warring on everyone, probably not."

                "But… that's the problem, is there any other way than complete surrender…."  She sighed.

                "Hey, lets not bring things down."  Boris said.  "There'll be time enough for that when you're talking to the council."

                "That's the problem-- I don't know what I'm going to say to them any more."  She looked at her food.

                "You'll think of something."  

                "I hope so." She said.

                "Let's head out."  Boris said, looking at the crowd migrating toward the end of town.  He looked back at her. "Oh, by the way, there's a guy with a biplane willing to fly us to RDF …  By this time tomorrow, you'll be at your destination, safe and sound."  Sharin smiled at that…with an odd feeling of reluctance.

                ***

                The dance was held in a large open-air amphitheatre.  Sharin noticed that it had the look of being created by zentraedi, maybe with the aid  of some powered armor.    Boris immediately jumped into it, while Sharin sat on the sidelines, watching as the people, including Mela and Virik swirled around in a chaotic and happy mass.  She felt tremendously out of place.

                "I should go back to the inn." She said to herself.  Boris could enjoy himself better if he-  A hand suddenly reached down and grabbed her. 

                "Eep!"  She squeaked as Boris literally lifted her off her feet.

                "No hard thoughts right now-- this is a celebration!"  He said and whirled her into the mass of dancing people. 

                "Boris!"  Sharin gasped as suddenly Virik grabbed her and spun her around, before spinning her off to another man who was dancing with Virik's wife.    Sharin couldn't get her breath back, but the beat and sound of the music started to entrance her, as she found her moves complying with the energetic sound and infectious attitudes of the other happy dancers.  

                Suddenly she found herself spun back to Boris, who took her in his arms, her head barely coming up to his shoulder. The kenetic beat slowed down, the music morphing into something slower, gentler.  Boris grinned.

                "And now we get to catch our breaths."  Boris said quietly, beginning to sway gently to the tune of the music.  Sharin found that her hands were in the same position as the hug they'd had earlier, and Boris's hands were on her hips, holding her close.  Sharin saw Mela and Virik dancing in the same way, only their expression was considerably different from hers, like they were talking mind to mind.    Boris gently swung her around, evidently having danced this dance before. Sharin let him lead her across the floor, moving in and out of the others, each couple focused on each other.  

                Sharin felt  her heart beginning to hammer, for no other reason than she was close to Boris.  What was happening to her?  Boris had saved her life…but so had others…  The idea of the trip ending, and he going back to his unit, and her to her city, caused her to shiver in dismay. What…

                "Boris…" Sharin said. 

                "Mm?"

                "Do you have a…female friend?"

                "Oh lots…but if you mean girlfriend, no."   Boris shifted, looking down into her eyes. "Why?"

                "Um… I was simply curious."  Boris grinned at that.    

                "I bet…"  He said, and than before Sharin could say anything else, bent down and gave her a quick kiss.  Sharin almost jerked back, but stopped as Boris lifted his head up again. It had been just a brushing of lips, but her face felt like it was glowing, and she was shivering with cold at the same time she was blazing with heat.  Sherin sagged in his arms, just  as the music ended.  Boris grinned and led/supported Sherin to the seats, as a man came to the center with a guitar.  

                "No…Minmei?"  Sharin asked, unable to come up with something more intelligent. 

                "No Minmei… music here is more traditional." Virik supplied from his seat.

                The man started up his guitar, and the band behind him fell into a vaguely military rhythm, but one that was slower, more gentle than anything Sharin had heard before.  Boris quietly said:

                "This is an old, old song… from a place called Ireland…a minstrel is a singer, kinda like Minmei..

_                The minstrel boy to the war is gone  
In the ranks of death you will find him  
His father's sword he hath girded on  
And his wild harp slung behind him   
  
_

                Sharin leaned forward, listening to it… A song about war? That didn't seem in keeping with the celebration, nor did the expressions on the faces of those around her.  Serious…sad….and determined.   The music welled up. 

_"__Land__ of __Song__!" said the warrior bard  
"Though all the world betrays thee  
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,  
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"   
  
_

                "Though all the world betrays thee…" Sharin said softly.  That had happened to the Zentraedi.  Betrayed from creation, hated by all.  Boris turned and looked at her, as she leaned forward, straining, thinking.  One sword at least… Sharin closed her eyes, feeling the music.  She would bear that sword…to protect her people.  

                _What if you fail?_  The voice spoke into her, and the fear of betraying her people to death rose up…but the song had an answer to that as well. 

_The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain  
Could not bring that proud soul under  
The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again  
For he tore its chords asunder   
  
And said "No chains shall sully thee  
Thou soul of love and bravery!  
Thy songs were made for the pure and free  
They shall never sound in slavery!"_

                _I may not succeed.  _She thought about the feel of Boris, how he'd saved her. The way that Virik and Mela no longer needed to think of war…no longer _needed _the masters or commanders to tell them when to fight, or how to live.  _But I will not stop trying.  We cannot be Zentraedi for ever…but we can be free._ The song came to an end, and the band moved into another song, but Sharin sat, thinking about what she'd learned, until Boris touched her on the shoulder.

                "We have an early day, Sharin." He said.  "We'd better go…" Sharin looked at him, and nodded reluctantly.  On the way back to the hotel, he told her about the flight he had obtained. 

                "It's a broken down biplane, but it'll get us to where we need to be…and when we need to be there."  Sharin looked at him in surprise. Boris grinned.

                "That veritech bugged me-- so I'm going to fly up when I know Carl is scheduled to be on patrol-- it has a radio and we can talk to him."

                "Do you trust him?"

                "With my life…and yours." Boris said, seriously, "He's saved my life a dozen times over the last few years…and I the same."

                "Who's flying the plane?" Sharin asked.

                "I am-- I bought it."

                "Bought it?"  Boris grinned .

                "I gave the owner a bank draft for my life savings-- enough to buy three planes like this one…  hopefully the RDF will reimburse me for it."

                "Can you fly a…biplane?"

                "We'll find out…" He said, as they entered their room. Boris flopped down on the small couch. Sharin looked at him in annoyance.

                "Boris."

                "Yes?"

                "Bed.  Now."  

                "But you're…"

                "As I said…I think we can restrain your micronian impulses… and If I'm going to trust my life to your piloting skills, I'd prefer that you be rested…"  Boris surrendered with good grace, and soon was in his shorts and T-shirt.  Sharin dug through the pack and found that the women had provided her with a shirt that came to just above her knees.  She went into the bathroom and changed, coming out.

                _Tzarna would have a fit._ She thought as she slipped into bed next to Boris.  If she had any fears of not being able to sleep, they were ended five minutes after the lights were turned off, as she fell into a deep..and nightmare free sleep. 

                The next morning, just as the sun was turning the horizon gray, Boris woke up.  Some time during the night, Sharin had rolled into him, wrapping her arms around his arm. The shirt had also ridden up, revealing part of her thigh, curled up against him.   He tried to disengage himself, but the minute he moved, her eyes opened. Sharin looked down, realized what she had been holding onto and released him, saying nothing, although her face turned scarlet.  

                "Ready?"  Boris said, once she'd showered and dressed, without saying a word.

                "Yes."  She said, looking at him and turning red again. She didn't say anything until they got to the strip…than she said a lot.  

                "You have got to be insane!" She said, looking at the biplane.  Sharin had had an image of an old style veritech…or maybe a shuttle…but this… it's hull was made out of _clothes fabric_!  "If I wanted to die, I could have stayed in the transport!"

                "Oh, its not that bad…"  Boris said.  "These are slow planes, and they're rugged as hell…and you _don't_ see them on radar. This one also has an up to date radio…which will allow us to hail Carl without others listening in…"  He looked at her, and then pointed North.  "Or I could get El Burro and we could spend several weeks walking…" 

                _Certain death or weeks with that animal…_

"Very well," Sharin said, resignedly, scrambling up into the cockpit.

                "Ah, Sharin?"

                "Yes?"  Her voice was long suffering.

                "I need you out here."

                "For what?"

                "Well… the biplane doesn't have an automatic starter-- you have to spin the rotor to start it up…"

                "_I_ have _got_ to be insane." She said, getting out and walking to the front.  A short time later, the sputtering biplane engine was running and they were taxiing to the end of the field. 

                Sharin had fought more battles then this pilot had seen…but this sorry excuse for a plane had her eyes firmly closed as they took off.  No automated controls, no armor, no life support-- no _enclosed cabin_… it was horrifyingly simple, as if the micronians had held a contest to see what was the least they could get into the air with-- and then proceeded to make it. 

                Still, as the flight continued and they _didn't _die, Sharin found herself enjoying the feeling of the wind on her face. Boris raised one gloved hand and started fiddling with the radio (a newer model then the aircraft, and the reason he'd bought it outright).

                "Come in… come in flight 234"  He said, and was rewarded after a moment.

                "Unidentified craft, this is a restricted channel."

                "Even to me, Gidarah, your old friend Badanov?"

                "Boris?! For God's sake, where have you been man? I was getting ready to write a letter!"

                "Can't talk on the air, Carl… I'm going to land by Sanderson lake-- you know the place."

                "I…understand.  Carl out."

                Carl and Boris had spent time fishing by Sanderson lake, a crater lake  that had escaped the contamination that so many other lakes had fallen prey to. With lush forests around it, it was isolated…but there was also a landing strip, carved out by Boris and Carl when they'd decided to try and get it assigned as a base-- that'd failed, yet the strip remained, and had provided and excellent location for out of the way  romantic rendeavous that worked even better when Carl would tell their lady friends that he and Boris had carved it out of the forest just to impress them.  The Biplane was there last, but seeing Carl's fighter on the ground in Gerwalk mode, he landed his biplane with only a few bumps, taxing up to Carl's plane.  Once the engine was killed, Boris and Sharin got out.

                Carl's face was a study in surprise.  Boris and Sharin were wearing local clothes-- that flattered the zentraedi a great deal, but there was tension in their faces…and a difference in the way they were walking. Boris was hovering over the zentraedi in a… protective manner?  Carl grinned and walked forward. 

                "What the hell is going on, Boris?  We found the transport, a killed fighterpod, and your fighter-- we figured you'd bought it along with the transport crew-- half the base thinks that the zentraedi set up the whole mission just to bag a veritech."

                "Not at all-- because someone _had_ a veritech." Boris said, and launched into an explanation.

                "That's not good…not good at all." Carl said. "They must have also had some support-- guess what about the scout ship."

                "Never there?"

                "Got it in one."  Carl paused. "So what do you need?"

                "A two seater Veritech…with no official flight plan."

                "difficult… but on the other hand…"  He looked at the biplane.  

                "Stay here…and than I'll fly back with a trainer-- you take it, I take the biplane…and you get me out of the brig once you hit Macross."

                "Thanks!"  Carl and Boris walked back toward the fighter. 

                "Boris…what's with the zentraedi…she's acting different."

                "Long story."

                "Check."

                When Carl took off, Boris and Sharin were left alone. It was mid afternoon, and the scudding clouds were once again putting a chill into the air.  There was no place to make a fire that could be shielded, so Boris and Sharin sat together, sharing a blanket as they looked at the placid lake.   For a time, they didn't say anything, as the air got cooler and Boris put his arm around Sharin, drawing her close.  Then.

                "Boris?"

                "Yes."

                "Why did you kiss me?"  Boris turned pink.

                "Well…..it seemed like the moment to do that."  Sharin looked at him, tilting her head and said nothing for a moment.

                "Was it pleasant for you?" She asked.

                "Un-yes!" He said.  "Sharin you're really…pre-- no,  beautiful."

                "Oh…"  She waited.  "Do you wish to kiss me again?"

                "Well…yeah!"

                "Very well…" Sharin said, and stood up, as did Boris.  She tilted her face towards him, and he leaned down, feeling her tremble…

                And with a tremendous blast of air and dust, the trainer veritech zipped over the lake and touched down.  Coughing, the two broke apart.  Over the sound of the engines, Sharin said.

                "Maybe another time…"

                "Yeah, sure."

                "Here it is, Kiddo's,"  Carl said, then blinked at Boris' glare.  "Boris my compadre…what's wrong?"

                "Bad timing…tremendously, horribly, bad timing, Carl." Boris said as he stalked pass, carrying the luggage which was placed in the veritechs storage compartment. Sharin had already hopped into the rear seat, noting that this one didn't suffer from over simplicity, like the biplane.  Carl leaned down to Boris and spoke quietly.

                "Boris-- there's no plane out here with a black paint job…"

                "I figured as much…"

                "But the news about the scout ship came from CentCom out of Macross city… just wanted to warn you, you might be walking into a minefield."

                "Yeah…but they ordered us to escort her to Macross, and that's what they're going to get… although I'm going to be stashing Sharin with the folks until I can talk to Gloval…"

                "Good luck."

                "Thanks… watch yourself."

                "I'm not the one with the target on my back." Carl said, gesturing with his thumb towards Sharin. 

                End Part III


	4. Chapter IV

                With Carl waving, Boris lifted the veritech off the ground, transformed to fighter mode, and took off, low and fast.  Sharin looked around the cockpit.              

                "Much more complex than even most human designs." She said. He called back over the intercom.

                "It's easier than it looks-- most of the controls are only really used in one mode-- but you still have to have enough controls to handle the fighter in all three modes."

                "Interesting… as the price for peace, should I ask for them?"

                "Heh-- only if you want to see admirals have heart attacks-- Only the RDF gets these."  Sharin nodded at his comment, forgetting that he couldn't see her.  

                "who are these 'folks', you are going to stash me with."

                "My parents."

                "Wont' that put them in danger?"  

                "Nah--  Dad's retired military and head of the civil defense at  Virginia city-- which is just about forty minutes as the veritech flies from Macross."  He stopped and the continued, "It's never been hit by raiders, but Dad keeps them practicing."

                "Wise."  She said.  Boris consulting the flight plan, chuckled.

                "What?"

                "Oh, the call sign Carl gave this flight.  LVBRD-S"  Boris laughed again.  Sharin didn't say anything, but looked below at the waste land.   North America had been a high priority target, and it showed.  Vast expanses of craters and dusty earth were intermixed with the occasional patch of green, some obviously human tended, and others spontaneous.   Boris was also looking at it.

                "It'll be years before its fertile…and probably never be like _I_ remember," He said, "Not  enough people-- in fact, it might start to look like it did before the Europeans came to it."

                "What did it look like back then?"  Sharin asked.  "Did you like it better?"

                "Did I- Oh, no, that was centuries before my time… Do I look that old?" Sharin didn't dignify that with a comment. Boris grinned, she was getting better at reading humans. 

                Finally, they started closing in on the town.  Boris had acknowledged several radio challenges, but now an unnerving "Queep, Queep, Queep."  Sound came from the threat board.  Sharin looked at the indicators and tried to read them, then shot up right in her seat. 

                "We're being scanned by fire control systems…" She said tensely. Boris waved one hand.

                "Don't worry-- like I said, Dad keeps  them practicing."  He keyed the mike. "Virginia City Air command, this is LVBRD-S, on registered flight path…you want to turn off the fire control radars-- you're making some people a little nervous up here."

                "Negative-- wait for the flyby."  Another indicator went red as a airborne radar locked them up, and suddenly two atmospheric fighters pulled up on each side, looking at them before waggling their wings and peeling off.

                "Identity confirmed, LVBRD-S… welcome, and your landing strip is Strip #2."  A grin entered the controllers voice, "The Admiral is waiting for you…"

                "Carl you SOB…" Boris said, "You told Dad!"

                "If your f-father is a command officer, he very likely knew of your missing status…wouldn't it be better to tell him immediately so he could calm himself?" Sharin said reasonably.  

                "yeah…you're right."

                Landing was completely uneventful, as Boris taxied the aircraft to the visitors hanger.  There were several ground crewmen there, as well as some tending the rest of the mecha in the hanger.  Sharin saw some tanks (generally of little use against battlepods), some of the mecha humans called gladiators, and -how did they get that-- a Glaug with a modified cockpit.  She mentioned that to Boris, and the pilot chuckled.

                "Dad has connections… and he's a pack rat-- not a single mecha here started life in one piece…"

                "Why isn't he active duty?"

                "He… ran into some political difficulties and decided to retire… it was getting to where _he_ was the issue, not the debate he was part of."

                "Ah."

                "In fact, there he is!" Boris said, pointing at a tall, broad figure waiting for them at the rear of the hanger.  He was Boris writ large, Sharin noted, with much the same look, only older…and larger.  A cane was in one hand, and he seemed to favor his right leg.

                "He was injured?"

                "Yeah-- everyone else was under cover but he'd gone out to get some more people in when the first bombardment hit-- a structural beam landed on him and pinched his leg good."  He popped the canopy, "Let's go meet dad!"  Boris scrambled down, with Sharin following more sedately. Boris didn't notice immediately, but Sharin's face was more closed than it had been for some time.  Retired or not, this was a human commander…

                "Boris!"  The admiral wasn't going to stand on ceremony here, Sharon noted, as he swept his son into a hug.  Sharin felt embarresed and looked over the rest of the hanger until the father noted her.

                "And who is this?  The information I was able to get was…light, only that there had been an accident and you were missing."

                "ah…father, this is Fleet Commander Sharin-- Sharin, this is my father  Admiral Piotr Vakowsky."

                "Fleet commander…zentraedi?"  He asked curiously.  Sharin understood-- wearing the clothes she did, she probably didn't appear to be overly zentraedi in appearance.

                "Yes." She said, "I am on a…diplomatic mission to the UEG council."      

                "Ah.." He said, noncommittally.  Boris looked at his father.  

                "Father, I need Sharin to stay at home… until we can go to Macross city and set up a meeting."  There was a load of unsaid words in that, Piotr noted-- why should they have to 'set up a meeting' if Sharin was expected?  More importantly, if they had vanished, why come here?  That could be said later.  

                "Very well…I am certain your mother would be happy…to  have such a guest."  Boris  looked nervous at that, but turned to Sharin.

                "Sharin-- this is a safe place for now-- but I want as much security as possible in Macross… could you stay here?"     

                "Certainly, Boris…"  Sharin said. Piotr noted the odd look that passed between the two of them. _Oh ho…_

                They quickly drove to Piotr's house, a complex of buildings on the outskirts of the small town.  Sharin noted the playground and the large number of smaller children running back and forth. 

                "These are yours?" She said, looking in surprise. Micronians had kids, but in such numbers?

                "No." Piotr said, "There were many homeless children after the bombardment-- those with enough warning sent their children out of the cities…but could not follow them."  He sighed, "It is another reason I remained retired-- Even an ex-admiral has enough clout to obtain the proper  support for these children."  As they got out of the car, the younger children gave a scream of delight and headed straight for Boris.

                "Uncle Boris!"  They shouted, as Boris laughed and swept the youngest one into his arms and onto his shoulders.  

                "And how are you doing today?"  He said,

                "Fine!"  Came the chorus back. One child looked up.

                "Are we going to play ball today?"

                "Maybe…" Boris said, "But I'm still at work-- I just stopped by to drop off a friend." He said, indicating Sharin.

                "Is she your girlfriend?"

                "Wife?"

                "I know!  She's a secret Zentraedi agent!"

                "Silly!"  One child walked up to Sharin and asked, 

                "Who are you?"

                "Fl-  Sharin"  Sharin said, 

                "Are you a zentraedi?"  Another child, about 8 asked.

                "Yes." Sharin said, truthfully.  Suddenly there was a little bubble of silence around her, with large numbers of eyes peeping out from behind and around Boris and Piotr.  

                "Are you going to… attack?" One girl asked, real fear in her voice.

                _Of course there would be real fear there, Sharin.  _A voice spoke in her head, _We__ destroyed their world…and besides, aren't people **supposed** to be afraid of the mighty zentraedi?_  Sharin shook her head and got down on one knee, a tactic that calmed micronians.  Of course, the effect was even more impressive now that she was micronized-- some of the children were taller than she was, kneeling. 

                "No." She said, "I'm here to…talk with your leaders and try to insure that there are no attacks, from anyone."  She paused, "I'm here to make peace."  The children looked at her dubiously, but the bubble was a little less silent as they trudged up the walkway.  There were older kids, playing, or taking care of younger ones. Sharin estimated that there had to be at least a hundred, and some of the gazes she got were fearful and/or unfriendly. Evidently the news of her race had spread.  At the door, there was a tall rawboned woman, the same age as Piotr. Obviously Boris's  mother, and once again, someone who Sharin had to look up to.  She hugged, Boris, kissed her husband and than looked down at Sharin after the introductions had been made. 

                "This is Ludmilla, Sharin, My mother.   Mother,  Fleet commander Sharin-- she's here on a diplomatic mission."

                "And for that she comes here, instead of Macross?  There  is something you are not telling me." His mother said, looking amused, "Sharin are you hungry and do you play Kickball?"  Sharin blinked. 

                "Mother… Sharin should be staying for a day, maybe  more…but Dad and I have to go, quickly."  Boris said.  Piotr nodded. 

                "Especially since Carl is probably in the brig right now."  Boris smiled at that, than turned to Sharin.

                "Mother'll take care of you, Sharin."  Sharin looked at him, and back to his mother and the kids, then turned back and gave an uncertain smile.

                "I… am certain of that, Lieutenant." She said formally, than shook his hand. However, the handshake lingered, a fact that neither Piotr nor Ludmilla missed. 

                "And how long will you be here?"  She asked.

                "I don't know." Sharin replied honestly.  "If you have a couch, I can-"

                "Couch?  _Couch?_  For a guest?  Impossible! Come with me!" She said, leading Sharin into the building.  Boris and Piotr looked at each other, 

                "Ready?"

                "Yes..dad, you know I may get court-martialed  over this…"

                "Every officer needs to be court-martialed once-- it's a salutary experience." His father said, philosophically.  

                The trip back to the base was quiet-- not until the trainer was in the air and flying to Macross, did his father speak.

                "She seems to be an unusual Zentraedi…"

                "She is…she's… bright, brave, pretty…"

                "Those are all common traits among commanders…I was talking about her personality…is it me or is she attracted to you…"

                _Oh dear…the grandson speech.  _Boris thought,

                "Well… I don't know."  He paused.  "She seems to be…troubled. But it's not all just the attraction thing.  She's worried about what will happen to her…to all the zentraedi if they give up their culture."

                "Not surprising… many are."

                "Well, she's a commander, so I guess she has a longer view-- though I ran into a married pair of zentraedi that seem to be doing well."

                "They are…in fact, better in out of the way places than they do in more..civilized regions."

                "how?"

                "In a farm community… you remember grandfather's tales?  The work is hard, but it requires determination and a strong back… and most zentraedi have those qualities. Work in a city requires training, social skills… things that many zentraedi do _not_ have, and sadly,  some humans are not interested in giving it to them."

                "I thought there were schools being setup for retraining."

                "Some-- poorly funded and equipped…and I find that often the schools for zentraedi are schools that focus on service industries or assembly line work-- there are few zentraedi even in the running for colleges."

                "Damn…that's not good…Sharin's not going to like it."

                "So it's not 'fleet commander' any more is it." 

                _Oops._ Boris thought. "Well, we did go through a lot together..and…"

                "And?"

                "She had some nightmares…that I helped her through. I saved her life, she saved my life…we went to a village festival, we kissed…"  Boris felt his face heat… he thought getting the third degree from dad about a date was a thing of the past. 

                "Kissed?  She is very kissable I noticed, though I would hope you would not try that when she is full sized…do you have feelings for her?" There was a pause.

                "I…I don't know."  He said.  "She's brace, she's smart…but she's an officer, a leader, and one thing I can tell you is that she takes that _seriously._"

                "Mm… you know Miriya."

                "Not personally, no, but who doesn't know of her." Boris said. "

                "She is seen as a traitor by many of her comrades-- there is a reason she spends much time with humans…"

                "Oh…."

                "And if you became involved with Sharin, and peace broke down…could you kill her?"

                "Arrggghhh"  Boris groaned, "I know that, I know that…what do you think has been bugging me… and the hell of it is, I think Sharin also has the same feelings… maybe.  She even ordered me into her bed."

                "What?"  Boris laughed at the look on his fathers face in the cockpit mirrors.  

                "The night before we were going to leave in a biplane she ordered me into the bed because she didn't want me tired and killing us both."  Piotr laughed.          

                "Well, as a commander she sounds excellent!"  He paused and than more seriously.

                "From what I see she is an excellent person.. but I haven't seen her long and she is a Zentraedi-- remember that you two may have to decide where your loyalties lie if you maintain a relationship."

                "Don't worry Dad… I expect that she's going to give her talk, get an agreement, and than be off with her friends-- I'm not even in that theatre, so I'll probably never see her again."

                "You do not look happy at that."

                "I'm not."

                The rest of the flight passed in silence.

                When they got to the SDF-1, Boris was met by a pair of MP's, who ushered him and his father into the offices of Admiral Gloval.  

                "Henry."  Piotr said.

                "Piotr." Gloval came around his desk returning his greeting, Both men laughed and chatted briefly in a Russian dialect  that Boris couldn't follow than turning to the very much-at-attention Boris, Gloval looked at him for a moment. 

                "Please sit down, Lieutenant." he said, gesturing  for all of them to take a seat. Boris would have rather sat on a bed of red ants, but an order was an order, no matter how it was phrased.  "Now, tell me what occurred between the destruction of the transport and your arrival here." Boris did, omitting only a few parts-- Gloval didn't need to know about Sharin's nightmares, for example…or the kiss.  When he finished, Gloval put his hands before him, steepling the fingers.  

                "So you have no idea who was flying the black veritech."

                "No…but I don't think he or she was a bandit-- when it saw us on the trail, it actually waved-- hung around to see if we were ok."

                "I agree-- and the ability to file a false report of a scout ship indicates either a penetration into our computer base, or at least one flag rank officer." Gloval sighed. "I am going to have intelligence look into this.  Thank you." Boris noted the dismissal, and stood up, saluting.  Then, he paused.

                "Sir…what's going to happen to the Fleet Commander?  She's ready to meet us halfway." Gloval nodded. 

                "And I will try to insure we will meet her the rest of the way…but there are other issues.  Dismissed."  Boris left the room, leaving Gloval and Piotr alone.

                "He is attracted to her." Gloval said. 

                "I believe so." 

                "It is not uncommon… female zentraedi are attractive." Gloval said. "In Max and Miriya's case, it saved us."  He paused, "But it is potentially unfortunate for your boy, Piotr."  

                "I know… security risk?"

                "Some will say so… especially since she isn't an allied zentraedi, technically, and also technically is holding micronians hostage."

                "I didn't hear that!  How do you mean technically?"

                "In the region where they are, there were no other resources-- the micronians' couldn't leave even if they wanted to…until now.  That's another subject we'll have to bring up at the meeting."

                "She's going to have  a hard time making friends if she's holding micronians, for what ever reason."

                "Da."  Gloval paused, "I hope that her and your sons relationship won't cause problems…for either one of them.  Every zentraedi who successfully assimilates-- and every human who helps them, is another chance to make a true peace.  We could do with more of that."

                "That we could, Henry…"

                Back at the admiral's house, Sharin was getting the third degree from a group of children who could have given Dolza's interrogators lessons. 

                "Did you see Minmei?" 

                "What about Rick hunter? Did he shoot you down?"

                "Are you a prisoner?"

                "Did you shoot Rick _Hunter_ down?"

                "Nobody can shoot Rick Hunter down!"

                "Uh-uh-- I heard that someone did!"

                "Did not!"

                "Di-"

                **"Children!"**  Ludmilla thundered. "This is no time to argue-- not with a guest."

                "Sorry."  The chorused, giving Sharin time to think up some answers.

                "Well." She said. "I've only seen Minmei once, I've never seen Rick Hunter or been shot down by him-- or shot him down, and I'm not a prisoner…I'm an ambassedor."

                "Like Exedore?"

                "A little bit, yes."

                "You're prettier than he is." One small girl said.  Sharin had no idea of how to respond to that…so she took the default route.

                "Ah…thank you."

                "How did you end up here?" One ten year old in the back said, challengingly.  He had some scars on his face that looked to be radiation or thermal pulse scars.  "Did you bombard us and get shot down by the grand cannon?"

                "No." Sharin said. "My fleet didn't take part in the bombardment-- I ordered it down when the command fortress was hit by the SDF-1."  

                "What was it like?"  A girl said. "Every zentraedi we've  seen have been…are like privates. You're the first commander we've seen."

                "It was…not pleasant." Sharin said, closing her eyes for a moment, remembering the desperate drive for the ground when she realized what the SDF-1 had done. The ships of her flotilla trying to drive for the safety of the athmosphere, when the monstrous EMP had rolled out and nearly killed them, other ships breaking up or tumbling, a flagship, two thirds of its length afire, almost colliding with her ship.  She shook  it off and opened her eyes to see the children looking at her. Ludmilla wasn't looking overly happy-- oh yes, children were supposed to be shielded from such talk.

                "But it is now…my turn." Sharin said.  "What do you do here? Who are your commanders?  Are you prisoners?"  Several of the kids laughed at her repeating of their questions.

                "We live here, silly."  One girl said.  Another one grinned and added:

                "But we are prisoners five days of the week, that's when school starts."  Sharin nodded at that obviously dire fate, as shown by the groans of every other child.  Ludmilla came forward, bouncing a ball on her hand. 

                "Now…lets see how well you can show our guest how to play kickball!" The cheer at that almost deafened Sharin.  Sharin watched as the kids took up position.

                "How do you play this game?"  She asked. Ludmilla looked amused.

                "Just watch..and get ready to join."

                Later, outside the SDF-1, Boris and Piotr were talking.

                "So, the Admiral will get the meeting ready by 0915 tomorrow."  Boris said.

                "Better," Piotr answered.  "He gave me the access codes for the comsat network-- Sharin can call her people and…relieve their fears first."  Boris nodded.  He'd expected that they would prefer to hold Sharin incommunicado until after the first meeting-- this was fortunate.  

                "And Carl?"

                "Already out of the brig…and with a commendation from the Admiral that should eliminate any negative impact of the stay on his record."  Boris grinned. He'd been worried that Carl's career might get stomped for helping him.

                "Well, ready to let Sharin know the good news?" Piotr said, watching his sons face.

                "Yeah…yes I am."  Boris said, as they headed back to the plane.  They had one more stop to make before home.

                Most of the kids were inside when they got back, with Sharin.  Boris blinked at that, but Ludmilla was very happy.  

                "She played a game with them-- which saved me from being exhausted!"

                "What is she doing now?"

                "Telling a story."

                "A zentraedi, telling a story?" Piotr said. "This have I got to see."  Sharin was leaning forward and speaking to the children. One girl had just asked a question.

                "So your captain wasn't nice?"  Sharin laughed.  

                "That was an understatement-- so Tzarna and I came up with a plan to… pay her back."  

                "What  was it?"

                "Every five years, there was a fleet review-- now our ship was in the front rank, and the captain had been making everybody absolutely miserable-- so what I and Tzarna did was find a metal dust and sprayed it on the hull."

                "What did that do?"

                "Nothing, at first-- but when the ship was in the ranks, the light of the star heated the metal and it changed color… so when our ship came up for review it had turned into this bright, really bright orange-- you could hear the commander screaming even without a comlink."  The kids stopped for a moment, and then burst into laughter and giggles.  Sharin saw Boris and Piotr, and gracefully rose, walking over to them.

                "Hello, Boris, sir."  She greeted the two. "Is the meeting on schedule?"

                "Tomorrow morning-- at 0915…Boris grinned and held up a uniform on a hanger. "And I managed to get you a uniform to replace the one you lost." Sharin looked at it and laughed.

                "Thank you, Boris! I was worried that they'd not know who I represented… either in the pants or the dress."

                "Well I'd choose the dress for you, but this is more businesslike."  Sharin looked at him, and then his parents, and abruptly became more formal. 

                "That is, thank you lieutenant. Will you be there?"

                "Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world…"  Boris grinned. "But we also have a communication link up for you, from here-- and it's secure."

                _Except from your own intelligence._Sharin filled in.  Still, it was a good idea. Tzarna probably was making everyone's life miserable right about now…  She sat down in front of the family TV/com monitor/ game center.  Ludmilla offered to shoo the kids away, but Sharin declined. Since RDF intelligence was going to be hearing it, she didn't mind anyone else hearing it.

                The screen derezzed, than came up with the zentraedi symbol as the two computers talked and agreed on each others bonafides. Then, Sharin entered in one of several satchel codes she'd memorized.  After another several minutes, the screen came up with the sight of the bridge of  her ship…with Sara, the comofficer, and nobody else.  Sharin remembered the time difference.

                "Sharin?  _Commander?_"  Sara looked at her with relief, then called to someone else. "Tell Commander Tzarna that Commander Sharin is online!"

                "She's been that bad, Sara?"

                "Well, yes, bu-EEP!"  Sara vanished from the screen as Tzarna unceremoniously booted her out of her chair and took it over.

                "Sharin, where are you, do you need help, what is your condition, we have full strike teams standing by I knew we couldn't trust them-"

                "_Tzarna!"_Sharin cut her off.  "I'm fine, stand down the strike teams, and calm down."  Tzarna took a deep breath and calmed herself down to a simmer.

                "Very well, Sharin, when are you going to be coming back?"

                "Not until after the meetings."

                "_The meetings!?_  Sharin, they tried to kill you!"

                "Someone tried to kill me-- but I was also saved by officers of the RDF..including this one, Lt. Boris Vakowsky."  She paused, meaningfully, "You have him to thank for my life."

                "Hmph." Tzarna said.

                "And if you meet him, you may be certain that he has my _trust_." Sharin said, an edge creeping into her voice.  

                "I…understand."  Tzarna said. "What are _those?"_ She said, seeing the children behind the screen for the first time.

                "Children, Tzarna-- remember, the small ones?  We have a few with our micronians."

                "But you should be in ambassadorial quarters, not with…with…" Tzarna ran out of words.  Sharin waved her hand impatiently.

                "The quarters are far beyond my expectations, Tzarna-- they are Lt. Vakowsky's parents quarters…and like him, they have my _trust."_  Tzarna said nothing more, and shook her head in disbelief. 

 Another zentraedi, this one the big male that Boris had last seen with Tzarna, appeared, seeming out of breath.

                "Still with the living I see,"  He boomed. Some of the younger children laughed at his presence  

                "Very much so, Korva. How does the building go."

                "It goes well, commander… the dam, the canals and the agricultural areas are nearly ready."

                "good…"  Sharin smiled.  "I may have great news, tomorrow-- I will talk to you again, after that. Sharin out."  Korva and Tzarna nodded, and cut the connection.

                "That was quick."  Boris said, Sharin nodded.

                "If I give her too much time, Tzarna would start to come up with other objections… and I've heard them all." She said with affectionate exasperation.

                "She's pretty protective, isn't she."  Boris said. 

                "Yes…sometimes very much so."  Sharin smiled. "I have her to thank for my existence up to this point…as I have you to thank for it."  Boris grinned and took her hand, giving it a courtly kiss.

                "The RDF is at your service Ma'am." A small child giggled at the sight, and another one, with the innocence of youth, asked Ludmilla. 

                "Do zentraedi normally turn that color when they get kissed?"

                Later that night, Sharin sat on the edge of her bed, given to her by the family. She'd put on the oversized shirt-- why ask for other bed clothes when this one would do just as well? The uniform was in the closet, and on an odd  impulse, Sharin had hung the dress and other clothes given to them. She didn't know why-- she wouldn't need it, but why let it molder in her luggage?  The bed was soft and comfortable, better than even the best officers quarters in the fleet, although Sharin had to admit her own bed back home was somewhat softer than would have been considered acceptable in the old days.

                She made certain the uniform was perfect-- tomorrow she would wear it…and it would be as much a weapon as any powered armor, a method of reminding the RDF that she represented a powerful force, one that could cause much difficulty in combat… and she tried to ignore the pang that hit her with the realization that one of the RDF soldiers they might end up causing difficulty for would be Boris. 

                The next morning, Boris, Sharin and Piotr drove to the port, and took the transport assigned to them. Sharin remembered how one of the smaller children had hugged her by the leg as she left, even though she was in uniform.  This time, they had a full eight veritech flying escort, from the elite Skull Squadron.  Boris leaned out the window, looking at a pair and grinned. 

                "Wave to a friend, Sharin."  He said.  "That's Miriya's plane."  Sharin looked out and nodded.  

                "It is…and  that other one must be her husband's."

                "Yep-- no black veritech is going to be causing problem's here!"

                _unless__ one or another of those individuals was in the veritech_ Sharin thought but did not say.

                After landing on the SDF-1, they were conducted to the meeting room. Boris and Piotr got seats among the audience, while Sharin walked to the chair that was obviously hers, alone in front of the ranked chairs of admirals and generals. Gloval was there, as was Exedore, and Breetai looked out from a video monitor.

                "Well." Sharin said. The numbers were there to intimidate-- but she'd seen the grand fleet, and it's fall. Simple numbers did not frighten her.  "I am here to hopefully negotiate an agreement that will allow my settlement and the UEG to coexist.  At this time, I must inform you that I am not proposing joining the UEG, or disarming."

                "Then why shouldn't we disarm you?"  One of the generals asked, he leaned forward, a bull headed individual who seemed to loathe the very sight  of her.  

                "Because it would cost you dearly."  Sharin said, not noticing Boris's wince.  "I have thousands of troops, mecha, weapons, an infrastructure to maintain them… while the RDF would win-- it would not be a cheap win, nor a quick one, and that ignores the chance that other governments or zentraedi might get involved…such as some of the former Russian states."  The rumble that went through the room was decidedly chilly.  Sharin wasn't bothered by it-- it was the same feeling one got when the bridge officers announced that Invid fire control had locked you up-- dangerous, but hardly unexpected.  The thing to do was to hit back with something that _was_ unexpected.  She got a small smile.  Unexpected even by her when she'd left.

                "However, peace can bring many benefits-- I understand the fears many have regarding micronians under the zentraedi, and so I am willing to permit any who wish to leave, to do so.  We will provide transportation and supplies so they might establish themselves elsewhere. In addition, any who remain will be given equal rights as the zentraedi, not simply in terms of law, but in terms of directing our future policies and course."  The rumble was far more surprised then.  Sharin wasn't finished, however.  "We will also undertake to patrol and defend our immediate area, and borders against aggression, by any group-- including anti-human zentraedi.  In time, I would welcome RDF assistance, although for now, that might be premature." 

                The rumble was shocked, some disbelieving, some eager…until Breetai's rumble brought it to a close.

                "Commander Sharin."

                "Yes Lord Breetai?"

                "I never had you under my command, but I did know of you-- and you seem unlikely to surrender in this manner."

                "I am not surrendering." Sharin said, "We must change-- the zentraedi of old are dead-- but I will not place my people at the mercy of the RDF….nor those zentraedi who proved willing to destroy the Grand Fleet."  She did not flinch at all at his gaze, or Exedore's.  "I understand the reasons-- but still, I have my own crew and allies to consider."  She smiled, "Besides, even among humans,    not all consider the RDF or UEG to be the true voice of mankind."

                "This is ridiculous!"  The bald headed general was shouting, his face florid.  "To let an entire nation of zentraedi exist is madness! They could support attacks, they could launch their own! They have thousands of mecha units, soldiers, possibly even a destroid factory that enslaved human workers are staffing!"

                "Not enslaved."  Sharin said,  "and in fact they are teaching zentraedi-- we provided them with food and protection after the bombardment, when the RDF was nowhere to be seen in China…but as I said, any who wish, may leave."

                "And we are-"

                "Please, General Leonard."  Admiral Gloval said (and Sharin knew of _him.)_  "this is getting us nowhere.  Commander Sharin, you must understand that your forces are of some concern to us-- many zentraedi of Dolza's fleet have engaged in violence and raiding on human settlements, as well as micronized zentraedi settlements."

                "Indeed."  She replied, "Just as some humans have engaged in attacks on Zentraedi, including the one launched on myself."   She paused, "This could go all day and get nowhere-- Admiral Gloval-- you were the first to decide to trust the zentraedi, first in the matter of the defectors, and then in the matter of Miriya Parino.  I do not ask for blind trust, but it is clear that at some point, we will both have to trust-- I could make wild accusations that you are preparing to launch an assault on my people and tried to kill me as a set up to it."  She paused, "but such would be…counter productive."

                "Still," another general said, "you've given us kind words-- but words must be backed up. Is there any concrete evidence you can give us of your attitudes."  Sharin paused, and then looked up at Breetai, then down to Gloval. She nodded.  

                "Yes, and I give it to you purely as a gesture of good faith."  This had been planned, even though Tzarna had almost had a heart attack at the thought.  She took out a data cartridge that she'd kept  with her through all her travels, and pushed it into a slot on the desk. A map flashed into existence, of part of  the highlands of Tibet.  Several pictures popped up, and at the shape revealed, nearly a dozen officers shouted in surprise.  

                It was a monitor, seemingly complete and undamaged, although there might have been internal damage. 

                "My crews found this on a long range recovery flight.  It is intact, and can be made operational.  However, it is yours.  The data includes it's exact location and the IFF codes for its secondary weapons, that we left on automatic." She smiled, "Shall we adjourn until such a time as you can verify this data, and my…trustworthiness?"  There was a certain scramble as she stood up and left the room.  Half way to the outer door, Boris caught up with her. 

                "Sharin!" He hissed, "These are the brass of the whole RDF! You don't just walk out."

                "I am the leader of my unit, I do…  and they can consider that payment  for the protection I received on the way here."  _And this will keep them off balance,  She_ did not say.  The meeting had actually not gone as she'd expected it to.  Gloval seemed willing to stand back, which left her open to the attack from the other human…something she wasn't prepared for. This would give her time to think and make a new plan to deal with him…as well as see how they would deal with her actions.  

                "OK…" Boris said, wincing as he noticed some highly ranked glares coming his way. "Would you like to eat somewhere?"

                "Certainly.  Where?"  Boris looked at her uniform and frowned.   

                "That's going to pick up some unhappy looks."  He said, 

                "It will have to." She said, "If I take it off, some will see it as weakness."  She frowned, "And if they see me as weak, they may decide to test me…and I _will_ defend my people."

                "Love to see you play poker.." he muttered,

                "What's that?"


	5. Chapter V

                They did get some looks, but this was Macross, and officers of Breetai's fleet were often seen here, micronized, working with their counterparts in the RDF-- Sharin picked up no more than a few, and Boris was certain a good chunk of those looks she did get from the male population had little to do with her uniform. 

                "What did you think of the meeting?" Sharin said.  Boris gave thanks that he wasn't privy to any classified discussions and so could tell her honestly.

                "I think the stunt with the cannon ship could go well, or could backfire-- I'm certain some officers are arguing that you only gave it up because you have others."  Sharin humphed.

                "If I had that many, I wouldn't need to be negotiating right now…"  She said.  "But I want this to work.  I want it to work badly-- but I won't give up the ability to defend myself."  She paused, "But in asking if they can trust me, I'd like to see if I can trust them-- after this meeting, I would like to walk around Macross…"

                "That's easy enough to do." Boris said, "Mom even packed another dress for you, just in case you wanted to go incognito."

                "_Another dress?_", Sharin who had gone her entire career as a zentraedi commander without more than two sets of clothes, not counting her spacesuit, looked flummoxed. "How many dresses does a person need?"

                "Some ladies could take the rest of the day answering that question," Boris said laughing, "however, I'll just say: lots."

                Before Sharin could say anything else, an ensign came up to the two of them.

                "Sir, Ma'am?" He said, "They're ready for you now."

                "That was quick."  Sharin said. 

                "A cannon ship lying around? I bet they scrambled an orbital squadron to go down and take a look at it."

                Inside the room, Sharin noticed a difference.  Many of the officers were quieter, Breetai had a small smile on his face, and Gloval looked like he had come to a decision.   The bald general looked like he was about to explode, a sight that would have dearly pleased Sharin.

                "Commander Sharin." Gloval said, in a voice reminding her of Boris's father, "We have completed a survey of the monitor, and have confirmed what you said. It is functional, unmanned and now in our possession."  He smiled, "That has, with a few exceptions, convinced us of your bonafides."  

                Leonard glared at them impartially.  

                "Therefore," Gloval continued, "we have decided to, _in principle_ accept your proposal."  Sharin nodded.

                "What does, "In principle", cover?" She asked politely.  

                "The idea of an independent zentraedi enclave, associated with the UEG by trade and legal ties…as long as you do not associate with the enemies of the UEG."

                "And who would those be?" Sharin asked.  "Bandits?  Certainly. Rogue Zentraedi, yes.  But what about the other independent states, or independent zentraedi?  I will not agree to turn out a zentraedi or refuse to deal with him because he defended himself."

                "However, we would have to ask, would _any_ zentraedi be considered rogue in your eyes?"  A colonel asked.  

                "Yes." She said unflinchingly. "If you have recordings, or other proof that they launched unprovoked attacks on military forces, or any attacks on unarmed micronian settlements, they will have no sanctuary with us."  She paused, "We will, however, continue to trade with other states, of course."

                "Ah."  Another officer spoke up. "Our information is that you have a former UEG destroid construction facility in your possession, that you have been using to repair your own mecha and possibly construct new units."  Sharin said nothing-- if the RDF didn't know what her capabilities were, she wasn't going to help them. "You would, ah, of course, transfer that to the RDF as part of any agreement."

                "No." Sharin said. "You have a far greater production base-- and any production facilites that we might or might not have will remain ours." Boris grinned. _Go get'em girl!_  He thought, than looked around to see if any potential mind readers among the brass had realized he was on the wrong side.

                "You would, of course insure that the products of any hypothetical factories remain in the right hands."  Gloval said. 

                "Of course-- any theoretical construction or modifications would be only for the defense of our enclave, no other purpose."  Sharin replied.

                After that, they started getting into the meat of the meeting.  The RDF had decided to accept her existence, with a few hold outs, and now it was time to negotiate particulars.  Whether or not RDF forces could enter the enclaves air space, either to pursue hostiles or for scheduled visits.  The second was acceptable, the first required further negotiation… Sharin wasn't about to let a precedent like that go if she could avoid it.  Whether or not they would pay taxes to the UEG, or be completely independent like other large splinter states.  Sharin was caught by surprise, and demurred, stating only that she saw no reason why commerce between the enclave and the UEG should not fall under the same regulations as any other commerce.

                _Ouch._ Boris thought, _Better let her know that she needs to find some people skilled in trade if she's going to play in that arena._

                Finally, at four, the meeting ended. There would be others, but even a matter such as an enclave of zentraedi couldn't justify holding so many high ranked officers from their duties for so long-- the later negotiations would be handled by a picked team-- including Gloval as head, and Sharin would eventually be replaced by a delegation from her subordinates.  Boris brought that up as they were walking.

                "Who are you going to pick to replace you?"

                "I don't know-- possibly Sara, the comofficer, and a micronian or two."  She shrugged, "I'm more pleased than I thought I would be-- they've accepted the concept of our existence, which is more than I thought they would."

                "Well, handing over that cannon ship surprised them."

                "As it was intended to."  Boris waved at a room. 

                "There's a officers dress room in there…along with your dress if you want to explore the city."  Sharin looked at him, and gave one of her increasingly common smiles to him. 

                "Certainly." Five minutes later, she was out in the dress that mother had chosen.  Boris grinned at his mothers wisdom.  It was a beautiful, but not frilly dress, the type that would work well with Sharin.  She looked at herself, slightly uncomfortably, then walked to him.

                "Is it…appropriate?"

                "Quite." He said.  Amazing. She could face more brass than he'd ever seen in one place without batting an eye, but the question of what type of dress to wear kept her uncertain.

                The two walked off down the corrider, not noticing the video camera that kept them in sight the whole way.

                ***

                "Disgusting." One individual said.

                "Yes… but treason always is."  He paused, "I had hoped that we'd been able to kill her, or send her packing to the rest of her brood, but…"       

                "I was disappointed in Leonard."

                "Don't be-- he's a hammer looking for a nail…and this is a problem that needs another solution."

                "don't tell me you intend to kill her in Macross!"

                "Not with mecha…but there are other methods…and this agreement can only be ended by something that convinces _both_ sides that there has been treachery…."

                ***

                Boris and Sharin spent the rest of the day wandering through Macross.  As the first re-established city in North America (that is, other than the small settlements that had missed being hit in the first place), it was a large city, closest to what the pre-bombardment cities had been.   They walked through the streets, some already planted with saplings that would one day be shade trees, and stopped by a new museum, walking through while Boris pointed out various exhibits.  At some point, he found his hand around Sharin's waist, and kept it there-- it seemed a comfortable setting, and Sharin seemed to like it, even leaning into him once or twice.

                "These are cylinder seals."  Boris said.  "A collector in Macross had them, and they're probably the only ones left in the world."  Sharin looked at them.

                "How old are they?"  

                "Over five thousand years old."

                "So many differences…" Sharin said.

                "What?"

                "Your people-- you are so different. The masters were all the same, zentraedi were all the same, but you-- you seem to pick a hundred different ways to do the same thing…"

                "We're not a created culture," Boris said, shrugging. "Without someone telling us, everybody had to find their own best answer."  Sharin nodded, deep in thought.  Boris looked at his watch.  

                "Well," He said, "Almost seven-- want to catch dinner and go back home?"

                "Won't someone get it for us?"

                "Wh- oh, that's slang, we're not actually going to hunt dinner."  Sharin nodded in understanding, and smiled.  Boris had had a reason for wanting to go to dinner at seven-- that was when his reservations were set for.  The 'Top Of The City'  dining room was in the tallest building (other than the SDF-1) and was also one of the most expensive-- but Boris had decided on it, whether Sharin needed to commiserate about a failure or celebrate a success, not coincidentally, with Boris. 

                "When are you going to tell Tzarna and the others about today?" Boris asked as he pulled out Sharin's chair for her.  Looking puzzled, the zentraedi allowed herself to be seated, then consulted the menu. Boris reminded himself it was in a good cause as he saw the prices.   Sharin looked in confusion at the tremendous variety of the food.  Boris smiled. 

                "The steak and shrimp is good here." He said.  Sharin smiled at that and put her menu down, satisfied.  Boris chose his food, thinking that at least pilots could eat in the commissary-- which he'd be doing a lot of to pay for this.  

                Between ordering and the food arriving, Boris and Sharin talked. Boris mentioned his youth, growing up, while Sharin spoke of her experiences-- no zentraedi could properly be said to have had a "youth" to speak of.  Boris smiled at some of the other stories of her and Tzarna's on and off again conflict with her first commander. 

                "I'm surprised-- I'd never believe zentraedi would have screwball officious commanders like that."

                "Than how do you explain Khyron?"  She replied and they both laughed, Sharin looking surprised at herself.  She paused for a moment, than.

                "Boris." Boris looked at her, 

                "Yes."

                "You said you would want to go to school if you didn't have to fight again."

                "Yes?"

                "If that were to happen, truly happen, to where the masters and the Invid came to peace or left you alone…what type of school would you go to?"

                "Mmmm  Engineering?  Aeronautics?  From what I've heard the Robotech Masters left a lot of the galaxy unexplored… maybe get together and go out to see what we could see?"  He looked at her, "Why?"

                "Because… I was wondering what _I_ might do.  I run the enclave-- but eventually it will be run by other individuals…and if that was the case, I was wondering what _I_ might do."  Boris blinked. Well, it was no surprise that Sharin wasn't one for small talk.  "I can fight."  She continued, "I can direct officers and troops-- but what about after?"

                "What do you want to learn?" He asked.  Sharin looked at him for a moment, honestly confused.

                "I don't know…" She said, 

                "then take some survey courses."  Boris told her, "Those are courses to tell you a little about a lot, so you can choose later." He said. Sharin nodded,   "In any case, running a company and running a unit aren't as different as you might think."  Boris looked up as one of the waiters came walking over to him.

                "Sir, there is a phone call for you." He said.  Boris frowned. Why now of all times…but it might be official. 

                "I'll take it in the office." He said, "Sharin?"

                "I'll be fine-- there are no 'El burro's' here to attack me." The waiter blinked at that, Boris laughed and got up and went to the phone.

                When he picked it up, there was an odd dead sound at the other end. Boris could tell it was a secure line. 

                "Hello?"

                "this is a friendly warning…it might not be a good idea for your career to be seen in such close company with an enemy.  Max and Miriya might be Gloval's pets-- you are not."  The phone went dead. He glared at the phone and walked back to the table, sitting down.  Sharin looked at him and frowned. 

                "Bad news?"

                "Oh, just a wrong number…" 

                "To use your phrase 'bull' "  She said. "You have exactly the same look on your face you did when we ran into the bandits, and then later when the veritech flew over us.  What is it?" Boris sighed. 

                "Someone…disapproves of me being with you."

                "Who?"

                "They didn't give their name…" he said. She shrugged. 

                "Then they could be anyone who has seen us here tonight."  Boris nodded, looking a little brighter. 

                "I suppose you're right." He said, _but how many people here had a secure line?_

                Dinner ended, and he and Sharin left, the sun already going down-- it was high summer, but the nights got chilly quickly, with the removal of much of the plant life that had served as a heat sink.  Half way to the car, Boris noticed that Sharin had leaned into him, and kicked himself. 

                "Sorry, I forgot how cold it could get up here." He said, and slipped his uniform jacket off, putting it over her.   Nobody gave them any notice, just another officer and date, and Boris enjoyed the night, forgetting the phone call.    The flight back home took only forty minutes, and then Boris and Sharin were walking up the steps to his parents house.  Sharin abruptly stopped.

                "Boris?" She asked. 

                "Yes?"

                "I do not think that a veritech will land at this point." 

                _A veritech land..what is she…oh … **oh.**_  Boris knew what she was referring to. He looked at her, and gently took her in his arms. Sharin didn't resist, didn't say anything.

                When their lips met, Boris felt her shiver and give a tiny gasp.  He bent down, kissing her, pulling her close, feeling the warmth of her lips, her trembling body under his, as her hands came up and encircled his back, pulling him close. He dropped his hands to the swell of her hips, bringing them down to her buttocks, pulling her up closer to him. Then, they broke it off, and Sharin looked at him, nearly gasping for air…before turning and running up the walkway to the house.  

                Boris raised his hand to stop her, than shook his head and walked after her. Sharin probably needed some time alone.

                "Hope you didn't blow this, buddy boy." He said to himself. 

                Sharin flung herself into the bed, grabbing a pillow and curling around it.  A moan escaped from her clenched jaw.  She could get out after the negotiations…but Boris had been so strong, holding her in his arms leaning down and…  And a small voice pointed out that his room was just down the hallway.  Sharin gave  a soft cry of  anguish and curled into the pillow.  Her whole body felt like it was on fire…but… and although she knew they were there, her mind couldn't remember any of the o-so-good reasons not to become involved with Boris. Except one-- that how could she do that and remain the leader of her people? Miriya had had Max…and betrayed her people.  Virik and Mela were no leaders-- they had only themselves and their family to consider-- and at that thought another shudder ran through her body.  She closed her eyes.  A human would appeal to God-- she'd heard them do it enough, but the only gods involved with the zentraedi were the masters…and Sharin had long ago forsaken them.  She did not fall asleep for a long, long time. 

                The next day, Sharin said little to Boris on the way to the meeting.  The looks he got from her were a combination of uncertainty, longing and fear.  Boris didn't even try to figure which emotion was in the ascendant.  This time, when she entered a smaller office, there were only five generals and admirals, Gloval, a representative of the UEG, and Exedore, and the meeting was far more businesslike.  In fact, before the end, they opened a link to the enclave, and started to work out communication protocols to insure that there would be no lapse in communication between Sharin's enclave and the UEG.  At that point, the representative of the UEG spoke up.

                "Commander Sharin…do you have any name for your enclave-- it's a bit awkward for the documents."  Sharin paused, taken aback.

                "No… We could call it by the name of my s-" She shrugged in surrender. "I don't know."

                "How about New Macao?" Boris interjected, before realizing that the place of a lowly lieutenant was to be silent before his exalted superiors.  Sharin looked at him and nodded.

                "It is as good as name as any-- and it avoids inflaming passions by giving a zentraedi name to a human location… I doubt any of my officers will be overly attached to the name 'enclave'."  She looked up at the screen where Sara and Korva were visible. "Log the change, Sara."

                "Of course, Commander." Sara said.  Sharin blinked. 

                "Where's Tzarna?"

                "Working out her outrage at your giving away the cannon ship by drilling her squadrons…again."  Sharin shrugged.  That wasn't unusual. Korva continued.

                "Of course she's running them out of armor, as a simulated infantry unit being attacked by simulated Invid, which are being played by troops _in_ armor." That _was_ unusual. 

                "Ah…" Sharin looked at the humans, Gloval looked amused, but than he worked with Breetai.  "Remind her that personnel are _not _ an unlimited supply any more."

                "Of course, commander."

                "Ahem, If I may interject." The UEG official, a mousy man that sat Sharin's teeth on edge even if he was the only person in the room shorter than her. "what form of government will you be adopting to insure proper representation for all members?"

                "I have given a consideration to it." Sharin said, "It will be divided by ten-- ten voters will select one delegate, ten delegates will select their own delegate, and so on until we have a council of ten."

                "Who will apportion votes?  Will the delegates be segregated according to race? What about the executive authority? Will this council control the military apparatus of the enclave?"  Sharin raised her hands in a warding off gesture.

                "Sir, please!  I have just agreed to end military control and you want me to give the entire new organization here?  It will take time-- but I assure you it will happen-- if the UEG lives up to its promise to neither threaten nor intrude into our areas." The UEG delegate sat down, looking unsatisfied, but the other RDF officers looked somewhat happier. 

                "I agree." Gloval said.  "This meeting has been more fruitful than any of us anticipated. I suggest, that we adjourn for today, and plan to have a public ceremony, assuming that any last minute difficulties don't arise, two days from now, on Friday."  He paused, "This will be a simple notification that the UEG and the enclave of New Macao have agreed to a truce, with other issues to be worked out later.  Does that meet with your approval, commander?"

                "Yes-- I will communicate my acceptance to my officers, if you would allow me?"

                "Certainly." Gloval said, and then led the officers in standing as Sharin left the room.

                "There is far too much left vague in this treaty, Admiral!" The UEG rep said angrily.  "We cannot accept it as is!"

                "Calm yourself, councilor."  Gloval said, "They have accepted the measures-- freedom of movement for micronians, an agreement not to support rogue zentraedi, and open trade that we needed to have for any peace-- in fact, they are probably more in compliance with UEG policy than some human governments I could name."

                "But it sets a bad precedent?"           

                "What? That zentraedi who will negotiate with us in good faith will in turn receive good faith?  That is an excellent precedent to set-- and one that I approve of.  Good day, sir."  Gloval said, and turned and left the delegate fuming.

                Another conversation was being had in the com room.  Sharin looked up at the split screen. One side had the bridge of the _Tal_ with Korva, Sara, Zara and Tulka.  Korva had the right to bring  his own officers-- but most of his unit were willing to let their commander lead them where he would-- Sharin had seldom seen such complete trust in a commander, but than the commanders that had lead their ground units into combat with the Invid-- and out again, were a rare breed.  Her XO, Zara had spent most of her time insuring their ships remained functional, her management duties transferred over to the entire enclave in partnership with Korva.  Sara remained com officer, and Tulka now controlled all fixed weapons.  The women had been with Sharin for over a decade, and Korva was quickly fitting in.  The other side of the screen had a very, unhappy, sweaty, Tzarna, in light unpowered armor.  Obviously, for this exercise, she was playing one of the infantry.  Sounds of shouts and noisemakers (simulating Invid) echoed behind her…

                "This is _insane_, Sharin." She said, "Please see reason! They will not let us exist, not unless we force them to!"

                "And we have." Sharin said, logically.  "Why offer to publicly accept our existence if they were intending to attack?"

                "Because they are micronians!"

                "Like Gary Chang?"  Zara said.  "How many zentraedi has he saved? With his arts of healing the masters never saw fit to grant us?"  Tzarna gritted her teeth and than, in a quiet voice, tried to reach her audience.

                "They are putting us off our guard-- they will infiltrate us, and than attack!"

                "And why then?"  Korva said, "Why not now?  Tzarna, we are speaking of access to information, tools, trade… in every respect we will be able to improve our readiness."            

                "And when the micronians all leave?"

                "I don't think they will all leave."  Sara said, "Thanks to Sharin-- remember, she was the one that ordered that food and shelter be provided to all, even those who seemed useless…they will remember the places that were willing to accept able bodies but not children or elderly micronians…and that we did accept them." The others nodded in agreement. Sharin looked at them and than nodded to herself.

                "If  we are going to have a 'representative government, we better get used to it-- since this is not a military decision, I see no difficulty putting it to a vote. Who agrees with this proposal?" Everyone nodded except for Tzarna. "Who is against it." Nobody said anything. Sharin looked annoyed.

                "Tzarna?"

                "Yes?"

                "If you don't agree, you are against it….so say so."

                "I say that this will be dangerous-- and that of all of us, you are in the most danger right now. The micronians are untrustworthy!  But… I've followed your lead other places I could have sworn would have gotten us killed, one more won't hurt…but I hope that you understand this."

                "I do too, Tzarna, but it is necessary."  Sharin nodded to them, before she cut the signal.

                When she came out of the room, Boris was there, waiting for her.  He looked at her as she looked back at him.

                "Sharin…about last night." Boris said, "If I was…"

                "No." Sharin said to him, "It wasn't anything about you-- if anything I believe that the 'kiss' was all it claimed to be."  She smiled, "But I wasn't prepared…"  She looked at him and than walked to the cloakroom. "Wait a moment." Boris paused, and then started as Sharin came out, wearing the Spanish dress she'd worn during the dance, complete with head scarf.  

                "Let us go." Sharin said, "and we can talk somewhere." On their way out, the UEG representative saw them and did a double take, but wisely refrained from speaking.  Another individual said  nothing…but smiled as he opened his phone.

                This time, Sharin led and stopped at the first Café they found, an open air place with tables out on a patio facing a park across the street.  

                "What am I to you?"  She asked point blank.  Boris nearly choked on his coffee.  

                "You're…." He paused, and realized that his glib list of "ways to get the girl to go home with you" didn't work with this woman…because this was someone he was coming to care for…and too many scenarios with her "coming home" with him also involved the destruction of _her_ life.  

                "you're… someone very important to me." He finally said.  

                "And you to me." She quietly said, reaching out and taking him by the hand.  "But I can't betray my people, Boris."

                "I'm not asking you to," He answered, capturing her hand in his.  He brought it to his lips, and gave it a gentle kiss.  "Believe me, I would never ask that of you."

                Sharin took her hand and held Boris's hand, looking at it with an unreadable expression.

                "You might not have a choice…Boris… what would you do if the negotiations fell apart and tomorrow you were ordered to attack the enclave?"

                "I don't … I don't know."  He said, looking  at her. "I'd do  my best to avoid that."

                "As would I…but Boris, I don't know how, or why, but the  very thought is like a knife…here."  She said, pointing at her chest. "But not doing so-- if it leads to harm for my crew, the troops, and yes, the micronians that have found protection with us…that is a betrayal of _them_…and how can I do that? That is the very reason we are given to abandon the masters-- that they are not worthy of our loyalty." Boris smiled.         

                "Sharin… you are worthy of their loyalty…hell you've almost died for it, remember?" They were very close now, Boris and Sharin staring at their intertwined hands, heads almost touching.  Sharin sighed and closed her eyes.  Boris watched as a single tear worked it's way out of one eye, down the curve of her cheek. 

                "Boris… I have always known the best course to take in a battle, or a campaign…it is the reason I'm alive, it is the reason my ship is alive…but right now I do not know the course to take…or if there is one. I'm lost…" Boris took one finger and gently brushed the tear from her face.  

                "Sharin… you're right." Boris looked at her, and smiled as he knew what he had to do.  "You don't know what course to take, because _nobody_ does in this situation…there's no road map."  He paused, "The zentraedi who want to go back to the masters are right about one thing-- you don't have to worry about this stuff there, because you have no _choice._"  He shrugged, "and because you have no choice, you can never really make a mistake.  But that's not how it is with humans… we make mistakes, big ones, little ones, all the time, and love…there's a lot of mistakes there."

                "Is this love?" She asked, her voice trembling.  "The songs, and words, including that Min mei talked about it like it was something pleasurable…but this…this seems like  a mixture…pleasure…and acid."  Boris nodded and laughed, 

                "Well you're right."  He said.  "Love's not easy… but it is absolutely necessary."

                "I think…." She said unsteadily. "…you're right.  I cannot understand this… I almost cannot bear it…but when I think of driving it out…"  She closed her eyes.  "I cannot conceive of that anymore."  Abruptly she stood up and started walking.  Boris hurriedly paid the bill and followed her across the street to the park.  

                Sharin stood facing the fountain, her arms crossed, holding herself.  Boris stopped, than approached her and his arms around her. She didn't resist.  Boris felt her shiver, and realized he was shivering too. The knife cut both ways.  Sharin was their commander…and in normal times the target of targets-- the thing every pilot looked for to destroy his foes organization.   

                _Could I?_  The image of Sharin on his targeting screen filled him with dread.  _What about someone who's just her friend, or subordinate?_  Boris had seen how his commander went through hell with every KIA, every letter home… do that to Sharin? She'd been brave from the first moment he'd met her. None of this torment was _needed_, it was hers because she was risking reaching out…for her people's sake.  Boris had just been an unexpected boobytrap…for both of them, it seemed.  The scent of her hair filled his nostrils, as he pulled her close, unresistingly. He held her like that for a moment. 

                "Sharin" he said, and turned her around in the circle of his arms.  "You're right-- and I have an answer for you right now.  Whatever happens between us, I will never attack you or your people."

                "If your ordered…"

                "I'll resign-- or refuse the order, all the way to the brig, if necessary." Her eyes closed in despair. 

                "But now _you're_ betraying your people."

                "No…because you will never attack us, not without such cause that would make my people the ones at fault…and if we can tell you to go against your training because it's _wrong_ then the same thing applies to us." Boris looked down at her and smiled, "And in any case, it's well worth it."  Sharin's eyes were brimming with unshed tears.

                "I don't…know." She said with difficulty.

                "Neither do I."  He quietly said, "But that's the problem and the fun…you never do."  He bent down gently and gave her a kiss, and Sharin answered it. They pulled each other close, and more so than yesterday, Boris felt like he was going to melt or explode in that meeting of lips.  Sharin broke off the kiss, breathing heavily…but then kissed him again, eagerly.  Boris closed his eyes, hearing her give a tiny whimper… and then they were standing, just holding on to each other.  Sharin looked up at him. 

                "So…" She said.  "Let us return home… and talk…" Boris smiled, 

                "I think that's a good idea." He put his arm around her shoulder and they started for the base, Sharin's head leaning against his chest, her arm around his waist.  The walked peacefully, occasionally speaking, either to ask a question (on Sharin's part) or answer it.  There was no need to speak of anything else.  Boris knew that this didn't solve all their problems, by a long shot, but it was…worth it.  

                Half way there, Someone ran into them, going nearly full tilt, before turning and running down an ally.    Boris and Sharin were both sent sprawling.  Boris snarled in irritation-- leave it to some inconsiderate idiot to run into some people enjoying the walk!         

                "Are you OK, Sharin?"  She smiled up at him.

                "Of course."  She said, getting up and dusting herself off. "compared to burros and black veritechs, that was not even worthy of consideration."  She rubbed one arm. "Strange..why would a fall sting like that."  Boris, glaring looked down the ally, and than saw something on the ground.  

                "What the hell?" He said, rolling the cylinder in his fingers. It was a single shot drug ampoule…  Now why would anyone have that-- especially since it had been used.  He blinked. 

                "Sharin, did you say-" He looked over at her. Sharin was leaning against the wall shuddering. 

                "Boris…I-hck!" She gasped and fell over.  Boris was at her side in one leap, his celphone (since he didn't intend to answer any more crank calls at a restaurant), out and his finger punching the emergency key.  When the operator came on, he didn't screw with anything, just gave his rank and ordered a full crash team, on the double. Then he looked down while shouting for aid. Already some people were coming out of a store.  

                Sharin was shuddering, gasping for breath.  He looked at her face, as both eyes were open, pupils dilated. 

                "Sharin, it's going to be alright, we have medics on the way."  She didn't say anything, but suddenly her body arched and she started convulsing. Boris held on and tried to keep her from swallowing her tongue,  while several others came to his side.

                "I've called the ambulance," A chubby individual said.  Another, younger voice intruded. 

                "What's going on here?" Boris looked up and saw Captain Hunter.  

                "Someone poisoned her, sir, they-oh god."  Sharin gave a sudden tremendous gasp, arching her back, and than collapsed, head lolling to the side.  Boris checked for a pulse. None. He opened her mouth, tilting her head back, and started breathing for her, in a parody of the kiss they'd shared.  Hunter muscled Boris's  body to the side and while Boris continued, started to compress Sharin's chest, applying CPR.  Boris's mind was concentrated on his task, waiting, praying for the coughing that would signify she was breathing, or just a pulse.  The sound of the ambulance was getting closer.  Boris put his finger to her throat…nothing.  

                "Anything?" Hunter asked. Boris waved his hand in negation, while continuing to breath for her.

                "Keep with it." Hunter said.  "Ambulance is just a minute away."  Boris kept working mechanically, doing every act to perfection. Meanwhile his mind was a never ending refrain.

                _Oh God please, Oh God please, Oh God Please…_


	6. Chapter VI

                The trip to the hospital as a foretaste of hell for Boris.  The medics had shoved him and hunter aside with no apologies, and administered defibrillation, before the medic in charge injected stimulant directly into her heart.  With no idea of what the poison had been, they couldn't try an antidote… But at least her heart had started again, weak, uncertain, but beating.  

                When they got to the hospital, the Medics charged on in With Sharin, while Rick and Boris were stopped at the desk.

                "Name?"

                "Sharin." Boris said, "ah, no last name, she's zentraedi."

                "Mm." The nurse said, "No idea of drug allergies then, correct?"

                "Ah, yeah."

                "Ok…I'll…"

                "When can I see her?"

                "Later."

                "_later__?"_  

                "After the doctors finish with her." Boris opened his mouth, but Rick took his arm.

                "C'mon Lieutenant, they'll call us when they're finished." Boris looked at him, and closed his eyes.  

                "I never saw the guys face." Boris said. "he ran into us, and I was pissed, but I'd never--"

                "Lieutenant Boris Vakowsky?"  Another voice intruded.  Boris looked over to see several MP's.  

                "Well it's about time you're here!" Boris said. "Did you find anything?"

                "No, but we had some calls…it's my duty to inform you that you are under arrest for attempted murder of Commander Sharin."  Boris exploded.

                _"Are you Fucking CRAZY!"_  He snarled and advanced on the MP. His two companions unsnapped their holsters, and Rick looked concerned.

                "Hey!" Captain Hunter said, "Wait all of you." He looked at Boris, "Boris a gunfight, or a fist fight in the hospital isn't going to help Sharin…I'll get in touch with some people and find out what's going on….Go with them."  He said, and then looked at the MP.  "What's your name and serial number."

                "Jared Thompson, 543-33-6912, sir."  

                "Good…I'm holding you _personally_ responsible for Boris' safety.  Do you understand this?"

                "Yes sir!"  

                "Good."  Boris, barely able to hold his fury in check was handcuffed and escorted out of the hospital, into the lights of several reporters from the MSBN. Rick looked at that, and his eyes widened.

                _How the hell the reporters get a hold of this so quickly…_

                In the hospital, the doctors were looking at the blood chemistry work up with confusion.  

                "That's not any kind of inorganic poison…and I've never seen anything that complex!"  Another doctor looked at it. 

                "I have…it's similar to some of the biological mixtures used in micronizing chambers." He frowned, "Which doesn't help us much since half of what goes on in them is black magic."  He looked down at the zentraedi.  She was breathing on her own…partially, although they had her on ventilation.  However, the brain activity was becoming increasingly erratic.  

                "Has there been any response to stimulation?"

                "None…she was unconscious when the medics arrived, and according to witnesses, was unconscious less than twenty seconds after injection." He frowned, then looked over to a nurse.           

                "Tell the MP's that we need the ampoule-- they can have it for evidence later, but we need it right now!

                Like waves from a stone tossed into a millpond, the effects of Sharin's poisoning radiated outward.  Rick called Gloval and left the news, and Gloval immediately got on the horn with the MP's. 

                "And why is Lt. Vakowsky under arrest?" Gloval said, his accent getting deeper. 

                "Sir, we received a phone tip that someone had seen him poison her, and that she left in some agitation for a park, with him following." The captain paused, "There's nobody else that saw this stranger he claims poisons her, and the ampoule has his finger prints all over it." The captain shrugged. "That doesn't mean a lot of course-- he probably would have picked it up no matter what, but right  now the circumstantial evidence doesn't look overly good."

                "Why would he use poison!" Gloval said, "He had sufficient time to deal with her in Latin America."

                "Yes Sir, but motive isn't very easy…I could spin some theories, but that's all they would be."

                "Please, captain, continue."

                "Perhaps he had a fantasy of doing a Max and Miriya…and she turned him down." The captain shrugged.  "There's others…but the fact remains that none of them really amount to anything more than speculation…unless Commander Sharin recovers."  The captain met Gloval's eyes.  "I would really prefer that-- if she recovers, than all we have to do is ask her."

                "I understand…and now I must make another call. Keep me informed, Captain."  Before Gloval could code the phone, another incoming call hit, this one from the hospital.

                "It's very odd sir, some form of complex biological poison, related to the micronization chamber's chemicals."  The doctor shrugged, "I don't' know what it is. We analyzed the ampoule, but we still can't figure it."

                "I may be able to help." Gloval said, "I will have Dr. Lang proceed to the hospital-- he's perhaps the only person who even comes close to understanding the micronization chambers… at least he may be able to tell us if this is a waste component or some specially devised poison."  _Then_ Gloval made the call he'd been dreading.

                "I understand, Henry."  Piotr said.  Gloval looked at him with sympathy.  

                "If you wish to come down…"

                "I will-- have you told  Sharin's people yet?"

                "They're next on the list…"

                "Good luck."  Piotr paused, "Henry."

                "Yes?" 

                "You know Boris would never do this."

                "I do…but we need proof that he didn't." Gloval shook his head. "If Sharin comes out of her coma, we will be able to prove it.  Until then…"

                "We hope."

                "da."

                In the enclaves com center, it was morning, and the room was crowded as they replayed the recording for those who hadn't been on hand for it's live reception.

                "We do not know who did this, although Boris Vakowsky has been arrested, that is preliminary,  and it is premature to assign him guilt or innocence." Gloval said.  Tzarna slammed her fists down on the table, leaving two depressions. Snarling, she turned and glared at the others.

                "Get every mecha ready, prep the ships for launch! I want every soldier ready to attack by this afternoon, then we will-"

                "No."  Korva said. 

                "No?" Tzarna said in disbelief, before marching up to him.  Tzarna was no midget, but Korva was big even for a zentraedi.   Nonetheless, the giant had to force himself to remain standing in the face of Tzarna's white hot rage. 

                "Sharin wished there to be peace."

                "Sharin could be _dying_ because of those s-she trusted to make peace!" Tzarna nearly screamed, anguish in her eyes.  Of all of them, she'd been with Sharin from the latter's decantation from the clone tanks, from the days when Sharin was the lowest ranked, most disdained member of the crew, save for the single ace commander that took her under her wing, until _Sharin _was the commander, leading Tzarna to victory after victory. 

                "And there will be time to attack if she dies…but I will not do so before."  Korva said.  Tzarna spun and resisted the mad impulse to attack him, especially when she saw that the others agreed with him.  She clenched her fingers so hard they creaked, and then turned around. 

                "Very well… _I_ will go, alone, since it seems like I'm the only person who remembers what we owe our commander. The RDF _permitted_ a representative."  Some of the others flinched at that. Not Korva.

                "No.  You will not go."

                "What?" Her voice was a whisper.

                "Not until you swear, not just as a Zentraedi, but as Sharin's subordinate, that you will do nothing to destroy what she may have died to give us."

                "You _dare…"_  She hissed.

                "I do."  He looked at her, "And I will continue to dare."

                "I…" Tzarna struggled and mastered herself. "I swear that I will not attack the micronians…unless they physically attack me."

                "And if Sharin dies?" Korva said implacably.

                "Then no oaths will hold me." She said. "And if you try to hold me now, than you should prepare to kill me, for I will kill you, Commander Korva."  Korva looked at her, and nodded. Then paused.

"You will take Gary Chang with you."

                "A _micronian!_" Tzarna spat, "Why?" Korva looked at her in sympathy.

                "Because he is a doctor-- there are no zentraedi doctors, and he may be able to help…or at least tell if they are truly tying to cure her." Tzarna wanted to refuse him, but he made sense.

                The Quadlann Rau drove across the sky at it's maximum velocity. The RDF had suggested that Sharin was undergoing the best of care after the murder attempt-- supposedly by the same Boris she'd told them to _trust_. The RDF had also told them that no military force would be permitted to see her…although a representative could come…and if Tzarna decided that she needed a power armor for a transport, they couldn't very well say they'd outright forbidden it!

                Gary Chang was  in the transport pod carried in the mecha's hand, and he hadn't said a thing. It didn't take a genius to notice the dangerous tension around Tzarna, and small talk was not a good idea right now. 

***

                Boris sat in his cell.  They'd interrogated him twice. Once just asking about what he'd seen, politely enough, the next time bringing up all kinds of insane theories.

                "Come on, LT., you wouldn't be the first one pissed because a woman didn't put out! You went through a lot for her…and for her to break it off like she did…"

                "She didn't break anything off!"

                "Then why did she run out of the café!"

                "She was upset!"

                "why, because you wouldn't take a hint?"

                They'd gone around and around like that, until the detective had left, with the advice that Boris consider confessing-- surely the court would go easy on him then.  Boris snarled and said nothing. 

                In the hospital, Sharin lay, the monitors giving their emotionless data.  The nurse looked down at her, and hoped that Dr. Lang would understand what was going on. Her brain was increasingly, dangerously active…but nothing of it showed.

                _Sharin opened her eyes and looked around. _

_                "Boris?"  She'd been next to him, when she'd been pricked and… he wasn't here.  She was in a chamber…maybe.  But as far as she could see, there were mirrors, hanging in the air, and in every mirror, she saw something of herself…_

***

                Finally the cell door opened again, and Boris saw his father. 

                "Dad…"

                "Ah, Boris… you'll be happy to know that we have arranged for you to be released to my custody."

                "how?"

                "Friends in high places…" His father said, seriously, "But come now…we should go see Sharin."    

                "Is she?"

                "Alive…but you will see."

                They drove in silence.  Piotr didn't believe his son did it, his son knew that, and there was no reason, or need to say it out loud.  At the hospital, the doctors gave way, although a nurse was hovering looking at Boris with some distrust.  Boris walked forward.  Sharin had a mask on, helping her breath…her face was pale, hands lying on the cover.

                "She hasn't moved…she's in a deep coma, so far as we can tell…except for a great deal of brain activity."  The nurse shrugged. "Dr. Lang was in here and took some blood samples, as well as the ampoule, so we should know more. Soon."  Boris closed his eyes, and wished for the nightmare to end.  It didn't. 

                "Son…let's go." Piotr said. "I have a room for you next to the hospital, and you haven't slept since this started…you won't help anyone that way."   

                "No…dad, I'll stay here, for just a little while.  You go."  Piotr, looked sadly at him and than patted him on the shoulder, walking out of the room. Boris took Sharin's hand, and gently squeezed it. There was no response, it remaining limp. 

                "Sharin…you can fight his…please fight it." He said, looking at her face. He brought her hand to his face, and let his tears trickle down her skin.

                _Sharin was walking now, towards the mirrors. She thought she'd heard a sound, from everywhere and nowhere…but no. There was nothing now.  She looked around, and kept walking…the mirrors. They were important.  _

"Admiral Gloval."  Dr. Lang said formally.  Gloval looked up and nodded at him. 

                "What have you learned?"

                "The poison was not a poison…as such. It was a component of the micronization process-- one dealing with the transformation and break down of the micronized zentraedi's neural tissue…in short, it's trying to take apart her brain."

                "And what does that mean, in concrete terms."

                "We can only let the process work out…and hope that she survives, or remembers who and what she is."  Lang said, shrugging. "Anything else would only decrease her chances. There is very little information about this-- in the sizing chamber itself, a malfunction like this would abort the process."

                "I see…and where could this chemical have been obtained?"

                "Many places Admiral. I am checking my own sources, but there are many zentraedi ships that had their own sizing chambers that are crashed in the wastelands."

                "Would Boris have access to it?"

                "Not from us-- and I doubt he'd know what to look for. Of course, it could have been provided to him."  Lang shrugged, refusing to speculate.  Gloval nodded. Well, an outright verdict of innocent  would have been too much to hope for, but at least for now that seemed to put a spike in any attempts to place Boris back _in_ jail.  

                "Admiral?"  Another screen popped up with Lisa Hayes.

                "Yes?"

                "We have a zentraedi mecha approaching Macross…it's Sharin's second in command, a zentraedi named Tzarna.  You approved her approach."

                "Yes, well I was thinking more along the lines of a shuttle…but alert Max and Miriya-- I think in this case a fellow zentraedi might work best to calm her."

                "Yes sir."

                Tzarna pushed the Rau to its limits, then slowed slightly, as she saw the two veritechs take up positions on her side.

                Commander Tzarna…I am Miriya Parino. The radio crackled in zentraedi. you may land your mecha at the airport and proceed on foot.  Tzarna growled, and for a moment fantasized about showing the micronized zentraedi just how overrated her reputation was…but a dog fight over North America would hardly help _Sharin._  She followed them down, grounded and leaped out of her mecha before its jets had cooled. One deadly threat to any Micronian who even thought about bothering her mecha later, and she was stalking up the road towards the hospital.  

                Gary, having been forgotten, quickly hailed a cab. Of course, Tzarna hadn't bothered to inform him of the directions the tower had given her to get to the hospital…so he simply told the driver: "follow the large upset woman."

                "Your funeral, bub." was all the driver said.  

                To be continued


	7. The END!

                Boris was sitting by Sharin's bed, holding her hand, as he'd been doing ever since he'd come back from a untasted meal. There was no response, as there had been one last night.  Suddenly, he got the feeling he was being watched. Turning to the window, he saw an eye-- a very large eye, that was glaring at him with undisguised fury. 

                Tzarna leapt up and glared at the two valkyries that had followed her.

                "What is _he_, doing here? He tried to murder her!"

                "No."  Max said, "That's only a suspicion, it hasn't been proved, and he has nurses and police constantly by him… watching." _Sorry Boris_ Max thought.. 

                "I want him out.  Now."  Tzarna said dangerously.

                "I'm afraid that that…"

                "Will happen." Tzarna said, angrily. "She is my commander, and she has been attacked.  The fact that you are taking   any chances with her…"  Boris  watching from the window, opened it and glared at Tzarna.

                "I had nothing to do with this."

                "Well you certainly-"  Tzarna said, voice raising, until an angry shout from a nurse two floors down shut them all up.

                "I'm coming out." Boris said, all things considered, quite a brave act, Max thought.  The micronian Tzarna had brought with him, sighed. 

                "I'll go up and talk with the doctors caring for her." Chang said, walking into the door.  A moment later, Boris emerged from it, looking up at Tzarna.

                "Shouting up here will just disturb the patients." He said.  Tzarna didn't hesitate. A hand reached down, grabbed Boris and brought him up to her face. Boris didn't flinch, although both Veritechs shifted slightly.  Boris looked at the  infuriated zentraedi.

                "If you believe that I had anything to do with this…kill me now."  He said.  "It's no less than I deserve.  But I did not, and I would have done anything to prevent this…for anyone, but-" his voice caught, "especially to Sharin."

                "Then why did you not _protect_ her."  Tzarna snarled. "She communicated to us that she _trusted_ you!"  Boris bit his lip at that, though it made him want to break down. 

                "You're right."  He said, "I did not protect her… I didn't know-- I never believed that this would have happened, and maybe I should have." He paused, "In that, I am guilty, Tzarna."  He shrugged, "Sharin didn't think about this…but someone who would  paint the ship of a commander who hated her bright orange wouldn't be likely to consider the risk of a lunatic that serious."

                "Hmph."  Tzarna said angrily. "You should have."

                "I know!" Boris snarled back.  "I should have kept her in quarters the whole time we were here!"      

                "Gah."  Tzarna muttered, losing her rage despite her best efforts. "If she was interested, you wouldn't have been able to keep her in…"  Sharin had always been better at reading fellow zentraedi, and later reading micronians, and Tzarna couldn't shake the conviction that she would not have trusted someone unworthy of it.

                "Why do you think she's been targeted?"

                "I don't know-- before the meeting, yes, but she'd negotiated all the important parts." Tzarna frowned, that made sense…or didn't make sense, depending. 

                Chang looked down at the unconscious commander.  Dr. Lang had only been there long enough to take a sample-- he had far too many things on his plate, but Chang was a former family doctor, not a specialist.  The brain chemistry read outs spoke of massive changes and great activity…but beyond that he couldn't say what it meant.

                _She was among the mirrors.  Each Mirror seemed to look out into a different world. Here was Boris's face, concerned, strained seeming to look down at her. There was the face of her first commander, enraged, fist raised as she beat her for the humiliation her prank had inflicted.  Voices drifted   on the wind. _

_                "…useless shrunken failure…"_

_                "Sharin… those Invid are getting closer…"_

_                "You're someone very important to me….."_ __

_                The last was in Boris' voice, and the one before it had been in Tzarna's voice. Sharin turned to follow that, walking  further into the mirrors._

Chang was standing by her, when an orderly walked up and started checking the readouts.  The doctor didn't bother him, until he took a hypo from his pocket.  He wouldn't have said anything…but the orderly didn't check the charge or the dosage before preparing to slide it in…and there _wasn't any note of it on the schedule._  

                "Hey!"  He shouted, "That's not on the schedule!"  The man said nothing, and Chang charged forward, to wuff in agony as a hard driven fist exploded into his belly.  Still, he managed to grab him, and the "orderly" growled in anger as he grabbed Chang and threw him out of the window.  The police officer charged him, only to be kicked through the door into the corridor. 

                Falling from a fourth story window is normally fatal.  Fortunately, Tzarna's lightning reflexes saved the day, catching Chang with her free hand.  Chang gasped.

                "The commander!" Boris paled.

                "Tzarna, throw me in there!"  Tzarna complied.  

                With the needle just above her heart, the orderly looked up just in time to see a Boris sized missile streak into the room through the shattered window.  He grabbed the assassin, and threw him against the wall, smashing his hand until the hypo fell to the ground.  Boris was furious…he'd kill this man... except he needed him.

                "Tzarna!  Catch!" He said and threw the man out of the broken window. Tzarna had put Chang down and caught the orderly easily.  

                "Let me go! Help!"

                "What the fuck was this!" Boris snarled, holding the hypo.

                "Go to hell!"  Max and Miriya were moving forward.

                "Tzarna…let the police handle this." Max said.  Tzarna smiled at him…unpleasantly.

                "Of course…once he tells me who ordered him to do this…and where they can be contacted." The man laughed at that.

                "yeah, right!" Tzarna stood up to her full height, and negligently tossed him in the air.  He screamed, and she caught him. 

                "I'm quite agile." She said, "I often amused myself by…how do you put it…juggling things."  He flew up into the air. Another scream echoed, and this time he came closer to the ground. She tried again.

                "Whups!  Almost missed you!" She said, in an amused tone.  The man's nerve broke.

                "Alright, all right! I'll talk, just get me away from this psycho bitch!"  Tzarna laughed and held him by the shoulders.

                "No. Talk first..then I put you down."  The man looked into her eyes and started babbling, giving a series of coordinates. 

                "I was paid some money-- they expected her to die right away, but she didn't, and so they gave me a hypo…I know where they're staying--  in case they wanted to double cross me, now put me down now!" Tzarna looked at him.

                "Certainly." She said, and flipped him over her shoulder.  His despairing cry echoed until he hit the pool in front of the hospital, where police waited for him.  

                "What a pity." She said, "I was trying for the parking lot."

_                Sharin struggled. The mirrors were there, she could here, knew that they were near, but the air was like mud, every inch of movement a terrible struggle.  She had to speak…she had to tell them… One mirror showed Boris, rage and fear on his face…and Tzarna?  What was she doing here?_

"Tz…Brs…" Her voice came, barely audiable. Instantly, Boris and Tzarna were at her side, Boris in the room, Tzarna bent down by the shattered window.  

                "Sharin, I'm here…you're safe." Boris said.  

                "Commander, what are your orders?" Tzarna  asked.

                "Dnnnttt."  The effort was agonizing to see, "d..o….anyting…stupid…"  Exhausted by the effort. The woman sagged back, unconscious again, as more doctors, including a wheezing Chang, started to attend her…in addition to a large number of police. Evidently, the officer on duty outside her room had assumed that the intruder was a authorized orderly-- aided by the false ID the man had shown. This time, that would not happen, as two officers took up spots in her new room, and five officers occupied the hallway.

                Boris and Tzarna looked at each other.

                "By the time the cops get there, I bet these fellows will be gone."

                "True." Tzarna said, "unless we go quickly."

                "She said not to do anything stupid." Boris muttered…_ but getting the SOB's who tried to kill her and frame me isn't getting into trouble.._

                "She didn't say it was an order."  Tzarna commented.

                "No she didn't…" _because she was unconscious…_

                "And defeating these rogues would be a very good thing."

                "Oh yes… unless they defeat us."

                "Frightened Micronian?"

                "Not at all…you ready?  They won't stay where they are for very long…"

                "I'm afraid that you're not allowed to move without an escort, Ma'am."  Max said. "We'll just have to come along to…escort you." 

                "That was not the intent of the orders, was it?"  Tzarna asked.  

                "We won't trouble them with this news." Max said, placidly.  Tzarna smiled, offering her hand to Boris, as the three giant figures  took off down the road. 

                At the airport, there was another surprise.  Carl was standing by his plane, with another already preflighted.

                "I was up here for a debrief…and when I heard the tac net, figured you might want a plane made ready."  He grinned.

                "Carl, you're gonna get court martialed for this."

                "Court martials are a dime a dozen. Friends are important."  He looked over to where Tzarna had already leaped into her suit, and was making preflight checks.  "You ready, or are we going to wait for her?"

                "Let's go."

                This time, their was no hesitation in anyone. The four veritechs and single zentraedi armor shot into the sky, and Max and Miriya traded ruthlessly on their reputation, in one case flat out telling an obnoxious captain that they were on a secret mission for Admiral Gloval, and if they wanted to call him and confirm it, Max had his home phone number.  

                "Secret mission?"  Boris said.

                "Well he did want us to keep you out of trouble, Boris."  Max replied.  

                The inertial compass gave them a location some three hundred  miles from Macross City-- like most of the world, the difference between settled land and wasteland was abrupt, with nothing save the occasional hulk (long stripped of anything useful, this close to Macross), their broken hulls soaring into the sky.  The destination, in fact, proved to be another hull, this one a small scout cruiser.  

                "It was listed as salvaged…nothing but the hull left." Max said, when the buzz of the ECM suit sounded in the vehicles. 

                "Some salvage!"  Boris shouted as the spray of zentraedi anti-aircraft missiles rose from the hulk.  None of the veritechs were equipped with missiles, which lead to an unavoidable conclusion.

                "Down and guardian!" Max snapped. He and his wife cut right, Boris and Carl cut left, and Tzarna went up the center. Boris fired, missing one of the missile launchers, Carl missed his as well.  His second shot hit it, and he had the satisfaction of seeing it explode as the APDS rounds punched deep into its ready magazine.  Max, Miriya and Tzarna hadn't missed once. The missile launchers were being taken out by single, pin point blows.  

                "Aircraft, Max." Miriya said.   Boris looked up and saw the fighterpods launching, with a pair  of black  veritechs in the lead.

                "The veritechs are mine!" He snarled, and converted to fighter mode. 

                "And mine." Tzarna said shortly.  Her pod lept up after him. The battle devolved into utter chaos.  At least a dozen fighter pods and two enemy  veritechs against four veritechs and a zentraedi ace.  Boris found himself locked into a desperate fight with his veritech, while Tzarna peeled off after hers.   Carl shot down two fighter pods and than found himself out of targets, as Max and Miriya had accounted for five apiece.  

                "How pleasant." The voice spoke in his radio. "The knight defending his cow…"  Boris gritted his teeth and said nothing. Losing concentration in a dog fight was suicidal.

                "You do know that its very likely she'll be… less intellectually inclined after this, that is if sh-" Boris turned the radio off.  The bastard was good, very good…and he had missiles. Boris transformed to guardian to let a missile overshot him, and spun around, opening fire with his GAU-11. Much more and he'd be out of ammunition…

                Tzarna was not out of missles, but she avoided using them except to intercept  her enemies own missiles. Her rage demanded a more personal vengeance.  She would, however, use them to get into position.  Micronians loved to transform to guardian to let missile flights overshoot them…and she counted on that. Tzarna fired off a huge volley, and watched as the micronian transformed.  

                The pilot sighed in relief as the flight obliterated a part of the ground, missing him. Now where was that… he looked up and didn't even have time to scream as Tzarna drove her mecha's fist into, and through his canopy, reducing him to a red paste.   She looked over to Boris, still in a dog fight, and slowed her mecha down.  

                She would not aid him. If Sharin was to be infatuated with a micronian, it would be one _worthy_ of her. 

                _Sharin stood among the mirrors, seeing fragments of her life, burning her, every glint from them like fiery knives on her skin.  She had been wearing her uniform, but it was being shredded as she stood against the howling of their voices…shredded, to be replaced by the dress she'd worn._

_                "Failure!"  Her first commander screamed._

_                "Unworthy!" Boomed Dolza.  _

_                "Useless!" Shouted the legions of the dead, in a chorus. Sharin fought to keep her hands from covering her ears._

_                "It is you who are failures!" She shouted back, defiantly.  "You never lived…all you were was toys, was tools!"_

_                "IT WAS ALL WE WERE MEANT TO BE!"  The voices roared, "WHAT ARE YOU NOW?  A COPY OF WHAT THE MICRONIANS WISH YOU TO BE!?  SEE YOURSELF AS YOU ARE!"  The wind and knives came back, redoubled.  Her dress was shredded from her, leaving her nude before the raging wind.  Now the mirrors showed other sights… her dancing, dressing, telling tales to children._

_                "IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT? IS THAT WHAT IT IS TO BE ZENTRAEDI?"  Sharin sagged to her knees as the wind grew._

Chang shuddered. The top flight doctors at Macross had pushed him to the side, but they now looked equally helpless. Her EEG, her body , it was almost like it was tearing itself apart. Her heart rate was increasing until it looked like her heart would burst.  What was going on in there?

                Boris converted to battloid, and slammed his jets on, letting the other Veritech overshoot him.  Everyone else was keeping out of it, which suited him fine.  He was almost out of ammunition…but he had a plan.  The other guy was also out of missiles.    The enemy veritech came around in guardian mode, firing. Boris waited. This was a standard tactic-- fire to keep the enemy from targeting you…but the chances of a hit were not good…and Boris knew it.   The rounds sprayed around him, one knocking off one of the lasers. But now he had the range. His rifle spoke, firing every last round…which impacted on the vulnerable leg joints.  The legs collapsed, as the turbines shredded, and the veritech crashed to the ground in a squeal of failing metal. Boris grinned, and strode over to the veritech.  Looking down at the cockpit, he boomed out of his mike.

                "It's over.  Get out."  The cockpit opened, and a flightsuit clad individual, face invisible under his helmet got out.  Tzarna was there as well.

                "I told them they should have used someone more reliable." He said, "Still, you won't get anything else out of him."

                "We have you." 

                "No. You had me."  He said. "Still, a good dogfight…pity you don't have good judgment about the company you keep." Boris almost said something, when he touched a button on his wrist. With a scream, the pilot was enveloped in a fireball, as the thermite running through his suit went up. At the same time, his veritech exploded, knocking both Boris and Tzarna's mecha down.  When Boris's eyes cleared there was little there, and another explosion erupted from the scout ship.  Max approached.

                "I've called in a recovery team…but I don't think there'll be much for them here."

                _Sharin was on her knees listening to the voices, the screaming voices that demanded she return to her allegiance to the days when everything was simple.  She closed her eyes, then opened them.  She looked into one Mirror…Boris and her dancing, under the South American sky…  Mela and Virik, needing no masters…and  never alone.  _

_                And the Song.  To fight to the death, if need be…but for something worthy.  She remembered all her victories against the Invid…and the feel of Boris's skin against hers.  Of a people that had a history… a past to honor, and hope for the future. _

_                "What do I want to be?"  She said, softly, barely audible through the roar.  "I am who I chose to be." She said, and stood. It was amazing how that gave her strength. The roar continued, but somehow it seemed…less real. The knives no longer cutting, but plucking at her skin, as if they were fading out.  She stood, and found her nudity clothed, in a dress, yes, but one that had her zentraedi name on it._

_                "I am not a slave to your past, or what you made me."  Sharin said, "I will have a past, and leave a future to those who come after me."  She said in a  louder voice, "I am my own person now…and If  I chose to give myself to Boris…" She picked up a stone and held it, "Then that is none of your business!"  she shouted and threw it.  When it hit the mirror with the glaring face of Dolza on it, the entire chamber became a howling mass of mirror shards. They should of slain her where she stood…but Sharin stood…and was not dismayed._

Boris and the others flew slowly back.  he was vaguely empty. The chances of getting any forensic information from the dead was nil, the base was gone…and the first examination indicated that both veritechs had been assembled from spare parts…and the fighter pods were registered as having been expended as target drones.  No surprise there.  

                Abruptly, the radio crackled to life.

                "Lt. Vakowsky!" It said, and Boris tried to come to attention in his cockpit.

                "Admiral Gloval, sir!" 

                "I am…surprised at you, Lieutenant." The admiral said.  "You do realize how much paperwork it is going solve the difficulty your failure to list yourself on this training flight created."

                "I'm sorry, sir." Boris said, wondering when the little matter of the dog fight would come to light.

                "In fact, it has caused other difficulties." Gloval said. "I have cleared you and Tzarna into Macross hospital, so that you might discuss this with Commander Sharin."  

                _Discuss this…!_

                "Ah, Yes, sir, Thank you sir!"

                "Indeed…I expect we will be meeting soon, good day, Lt. Vakowsky."  Gloval said. 

                The citizens of Macross were used to veritechs grounding on streets, having shared the city with Rick Hunter and other pilots that seemed to have an aversion to landing where planes were supposed to land, as opposed to cars.  Still, a Queadluun-Rau raised eyebrows, especially as it was not decked out in RDF insignia.  Fortunately, the escort of veritechs calmed most individuals.  

                Boris landed the thing in the front, leaped out and left the mecha sitting, cockpit open as he charged up the stairs, taking them three at a time.  He hit the end of the hallway and dodged past the guards and nurses.  Going through the door of a new room (one without a hole in the wall), Boris walked in slowly.  Sharin was sitting up in the bed, with a oxygen mask covering her drawn face, but she looked alert. Boris walked up to her bed, and reached out.

                "Boris." She said. "I…explained what happened to these officers…they seemed to have been under a misapprehension about the circumstances of this assault."

                "Yeah." Boris said, "I got that…how are you, Sharin?"

                "Better." She said, "Much better."  She smiled, "Dr. Chang and the doctors here believe that the poison has largely been neutralized… "

                "That's great… you rest, OK?"

                "I cannot do much else."  She commented, and than looked out the window, and noted Tzarna.

                "I thought I had seen you, Commander."  Sharin said.  "And your opinion of the treaty?"

                "I am still…reluctant."  Tzarna said, "But I follow you, Commander." She paused, "We have slain those who attacked you, and…Boris destroyed one of the enemy in single combat, as did I."  Sharin looked over at Boris.  

                "I seem to recall saying something."

                "Oh yes." Boris said, 

                "You told us to do nothing… stupid." Tzarna added,

                "And we didn't." Boris rejoined.  

                "Maybe I should have kept you two apart." Sharin said, then leaned back, exhausted.  "Very well… Tzarna, since you are here, you can join me on Friday for the ceremony."

                "Ceremony?" Boris said, "Sharin, you almost died!"

                "And the best way to show any remaining members of this group how utter their defeat is will be to appear and sign the agreement."  Sharin said. She smiled, "It  is strategy…and I have some skill at that…"  She sighed, and closed her eyes. "But now, I am very tired…" Her voice drifted off. Chang looked at the monitors and looked down at Boris and then  up at Tzarna.

                "Don't worry-- it's natural and proper for her to  react this way."  He paused, "Now as a doctor…shoo!"  he said waving Boris off and drawing the blinds on Tzarna.  Boris left, noting the three police who took up positions in the room, and the fact that the corridor resembled an armed camp.  

                The next two days passed both slowly and quickly. Slowly while Boris fidgeted at the fact that Sharin wasn't immediately up and on her feet, and quickly when he found himself before Admiral Gloval and a very high ranking group of officers, including the leaders of Skull Squadron, Lisa Hayes, and several generals. Boris had been shopping for a very special gift when he'd been paged to come to the meeting, finding his father there, in the uniform a retired officer was entitled to. 

                "You will not be brought to trial." Gloval said. "And your actions may indeed have prevented a conflict that we can ill afford.  That is why I have given retroactive approval and notification that you and your companions were acting on secret orders."  He looked over at Max, who had the good grace to be abashed. 

                "But…" Gloval continued, "There will be a certain amount of hostility  from certain quarters, and we of course, have probably not learned everything we need to know about the forces that attempted to assassinate Commander Sharin.  The base was destroyed, and the bodies were either incinerated, or have no flags associated with their DNA in our records…but they were able to manipulate a large amount of material and goods…although the Captain in charge of the New Austin firing range is currently up on charges…it seems he was doing a side business in selling recovered zentraedi equipment."

                "Is he a part of the group, Sir?"  Boris asked.

                "I doubt it-- simply someone who let greed get the better of him." There was real regret in Gloval's voice.  "It happened all to often during the Global Civil War."

                "But…" Gloval continued, "This will mean that you could face future questions as to your loyalty."  Boris nodded.

                "I know sir, and that is why I'm tendering my resignation from the RDF, effective immediately."

                "Boris!"  His father said, as Max and Miriya added their comments.

                "Boris, I'd be happy to have you in Skull Squadron," Captain Hunter said.  Boris looked at them, and tried to make them understand.

                "It's not…that." He said, "It's a different problem.  You've probably guessed that I and Sharin… have feelings." He paused, "But that doesn't change the fact that as a soldier of the UEG…I'm under your orders. I cannot risk being ordered to attack her…and these recent events make me afraid that some individuals may intend just that."  He looked at Gloval, than his father. "But equally, I cannot give you my loyalty…'except if'.  I'm a soldier and I need to follow orders, and if I can't… then the thing to do is to resign, my honor intact."  Gloval looked at him, then over at Max and Miriya.

                "I understand…but I cannot accept your resignation."  Boris opened his mouth and Gloval raised his hand. "Please wait.  I will place you on reserve duty… for as long as you require, and I will also include orders to the effect that should there ever be a conflict between New Macao and the RDF or UEG, you will be considered to have been honorably discharged.  That should free you from the dangers of having two masters." He looked around the room, "Lt. Vakowsky, the world is changing…and those like you, like Max and Miriya will have a role in making it… and that is why I cannot let you go.  It is logical that you would need to go on reserve duty… but there is no need to burn your bridges… not yet, and hopefully, if we all do our jobs, never."  He nodded at Boris. "Now lieutenant,  about your decision to cooperate with Commander Tzarna, I am interested in your method of gaining her trust…"

                After the meeting, Boris found himself walking with his father.

                "Dad I…know you probably weren't happy about that offer."

                "Not happy?  Son, I was ecstatic-- any officer needs to know when his honor and duties are in conflict…and be willing to pay the price that demands. You were."  

                "I hope Gloval was right."

                "He was right-- that's the other thing an officer needs to know-- when his superiors should be trusted…Gloval should be." He checked his watch.  "There's a meeting at the hospital, You ready for it?" Boris nodded. 

                Back at the hospital, Sharin was sitting in her wheel chair. To her great annoyance, walking more than a few feet had her dizzy with effort, although the doctors were confident that that was a short term result of the poisoning…but there was a longer term one, one that had Dr. Lang himself giving the briefing.

                "The effect of the poison has led to certain changes in your DNA…"  Dr. Lang said, "specifically, the modified portions allowing the micronization process."   Tzarna snorted from her video monitor.  Evidently, she wasn't a fan of science talk.

                "In effect." Lang said, taking the hint, "You cannot be macronized."  

                "It would be more risky?"  Sharin asked, 

                "It would be suicidal." Lang said, bluntly.  "It would have the same effect as opening the chamber during a half finished procedure." Tzarna and Sharin both turned pale at that.  Lang waited, and than continued.

                "But do not be overly alarmed, commander… Admiral Gloval has given me permission to speak to you of formerly classified information.  Sharin nodded, still seeming stunned.

                "The size of the zentraedi is a physical impossibility-- in normal gravity, you should collapse, you heart, large as it is, would not be able to pump blood…and so on."     

                "We do exist, scientist." Tzarna growled. 

                "Yes, because you incorporate protoculture in your body…the fusion reaction is what gives you the strength…the power to continue."

                "And?"  Sharin said.

                "And have you heard of stories of dying zentraedi… zentraedi that died of malnutrition even though they were eating?"

                "I have-- it happened once before Sharin was decanted."  Tzarna said, "At a cut off outpost."

                "Exactly…they did not die because they could not eat, they died because their bodies lost the protoculture reaction that allowed them to exist at their large size!"  Lang paused. "All the information is in here-- it  will be made public soon, but in return for what you have suffered, it was decided to give you the first look." Tzarna looked very dubious. Sharin looked at Lang.  

                "I'm assuming that you are not speaking of an immediate development?"

                "No…in fact many zentraedi could probably live their entire lives without fail-- only those zentraedi cloned most recently, when the protoculture reserves of the empire were falling, would suffer from this."

                "But later clones…"

                "Would likely not be viable, at least at the full size of the zentraedi…"  Lang shrugged,  "In fact, the clone tanks might not be viable for even micronized individuals-- protoculture is used in them, to some degree, although we do not entirely understand it."

                "You need not worry about_ that._" Sharin said, "The clone tanks also program their subjects, and that will not be something I permit." Lang nodded at that.  Sharin frowned and took his proffered data pad, and looked at it.

                "So the zentraedi would have died, no matter the outcome here." She said softly, and shook her head.  "Very well, Doctor…I thank you...will you be at the ceremony?"  

                "No… there are other matters that require my attention. " Sharin smiled at that. Everyone knew about the resident micronian genius-- some Zentraedi even called him the reincarnation of Zor.  The fact that Gloval permitted her, even half invalid, to see him without a guard was a great comment of trust.  The fact that Gloval _didn't_ permit Tzarna within physical reach of him wasn't worthy of comment. The  man was decent, not stupid.   As Lang left, Boris walked over to Sharin. 

                "Sharin, there's something I need to tell you."  She nodded, he seemed overly tense.  In a flood, Boris explained what he'd offered and what had been granted him.  Sharin's eyes widened in surprise at that.

                "Boris…what does your father think?"

                "He's fine with my decision."

                "Good… I have no family…and I would not like to think that I had done the same thing to you." She paused, "So…what is it you intend to do now?"  Boris looked at her.  

                "Well… two things." He said quietly.  "first of all, I would like to come back with you." Sharin nodded.  

                "I would like that a great deal…"  She said,  "a great deal."  Boris smiled, leaned down and kissed her. When they came up for air, Boris had something else, a small box. 

                "I…bought this earlier today." He said. Sharin looked at it, and then opened it.  In it, was a small gold ring.  "Among our people….this is an engagement ring."  Sharin was looking at it, mesmerized.           

                "I know of it, Boris…some of the humans that took refuge with us had them…they are given only to those that are…" She paused and took a breath, "Intended to marry."  She looked up at him.

                _Please don't let this be  the wrong time_ Boris thought.

                "Yes…and Would you? Marry me, I mean…not right away, but…"

                "Soon?" Sharin asked. "There will be problems. Some Zentraedi will say I have turned my back on our ancient customs, some humans will brand you traitor…" She suddenly got a devilish smile on her face, "Let them. It will be good for them, and I do not care if they choose to lock themselves in their little worlds….Boris Vakowsky…I… Yes." She said as Boris leaned down and gave her another kiss.  A snort interrupted them, although it didn't seem that way, Boris and Sharin took their time in breaking. 

                "Yes, Tzarna?"  Sharin said. 

                "Shall I explain why this is foolish, stupid, irritating, and other matters?"

                "Do you think it will do any good?"

                "No…" Tzarna said. 

                "If you can find any reason, beyond the fact that he is a micronian, and this is against the ancient doctrines planned for us by the masters that wanted a disposable military force, that this is a bad idea, I will listen."

                "I…er…" Tzarna frowned again, and gave a humph. "I-- very well, Sharin… I can't think of any reason-- but I don't like it and I don't trust the micronians."  Sharin paused,

                "What about _this_ Micronian?" She smiled, "The one that took up arms on my behalf, and risked dishonor before his officers for me?" That would have resonance before a zentraedi, there being few higher signs of friendship. Then Sharin used her trump.  "As you did when Captain Alys tried to have me slain?"   Tzarna shook her head and gave a half-distracted, half-frustrated wave. Then the screen cut off.

                "Will she?"

                "Tzarna is my friend."  Sharin said, "She will come around-- she's already coming around, I think.:"

                "Now what?"

                "Now, we kiss some more." Sharin said practically, "And then, we go to your parents and tell them what happened."

                Epilogue:

                At the signing of the UEG-New Macao treaty of non aggression, many noticed how the representative of New Macao, Commander Sharin, stood close to the tall Lieutenant. Many had heard about the attempt on her life, and some of those simply felt that the Lieutenant was being allowed to stand by her as a sign of favor, and that his hand on her shoulder was a way of stabilizing her, without having to subject the zentraedi to the embarrassment of using a cane.  Some of them smiled at the sight of the mighty zentraedi so weakened.  They however, kept their faces carefully neutral when the formidable, full sized zentraedi standing behind Sharin swept her gaze over them.  A smaller number, including the leadership of Skull Squadron, Carl, and Boris's family, new the full reason for his stance, the gold ring on Sharin's finger, and her  expression, seemingly overly happy even given the treaty.    They made no attempt to hide their smiles.  Looking at them, Tzarna sighed.  This was horrible, disgusting, and annoying…and she  never should have let Korva trap her into that long distance bet three days ago that Boris would be returning with them.  The bet was one thing…but he'd be _laughing_ about it for the next ten years…

                End.

Minstrel Boy, The

Thomas Moore

The minstrel boy to the war is gone  
In the ranks of death you will find him  
His father's sword he hath girded on  
And his wild harp slung behind him   
  
"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard  
"Though all the world betrays thee  
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,  
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"   
  
The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain  
Could not bring that proud soul under  
The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again  
For he tore its chords asunder   
  
And said "No chains shall sully thee  
Thou soul of love and bravery!  
Thy songs were made for the pure and free  
They shall never sound in slavery!"


End file.
